A life un-lived

A life un-

lived is a loose 

canon of

literature

lost to the wist-

fullness of 

stabbing regrets

that egret-

ed punctu[red] 

fju:-chaz

which 

WE once con-

tain-

ted.

And in this stab-

bing we

search for mean-

ing where

ringing in change,

clinking and

tinkling,

sounds only the

toll[s] of heavy

SUR-

vive.

So sell me the

method and

over-

arch with wit

the idiot I am to

continue this

lame 

gagging of honest 

assurance: the past

that hangs 

weightily 

from neck to

neck (and oh how 

once this

might 

have led to

skin against sk-

in.

Not now, dear

wow.

Not now).

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