Seasoned innocence
upon layers
of tough love,
rock hard

Touch of
make-up, made up
of promises made,
broken up and down

Our hero, he’s not –
he is anti self,
anti everything,
cutting into himself with
another man’s fist

power in
the shadows,
reaching, longing

She’ll live and
drink again,
don’t you worry
but he’ll lose

As lost as
lost in losing
while bordering
on winning
the whole

Damn game.

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