avidly existential,
dying words essential,
they're floating through my mind,
like an unfrozen astronaut,
cryogenically prepared
not to find
a program,
for this forgotten play
illusions alluding to another day
when the world made sense
instead of a series of vignettes
but now i'm trapped in this one
i thought i chose not to end it,
but woke up regretting it
and now i know
that no matter what i chose
my sentence ends
too soon,
a ghost,
of the rest of the poem,
remaining at the end,
marked
by a semi-colon
;
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