Mondays (O My Fuck​!​!​! How Did I Used To Be Again​!​?​?​)

from by Andrew Winzenburg



A spectrum of colors through a world made of glass, as my life sings soft on a stereo. I hope this is easy. It was Christmas all night, I guess. I find it funny when I undress. Cliffs become my worst enemy. My legs are unending. I hope to find myself anew instead of living inside you. What memories to make when they're not there? Two notches and A's mark my something missing life. The spirals in the dark, how they intertwine. The world is around me, yet I hold it all inside. The world all around me, beautiful, and yet I hide.





Andrew Winzenburg Mankato, Minnesota

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