Have a drag

I forget

I forget how to speak

I blind

I blind myself in ways I never expected

I eat

I eat my rations and pant for more

I mourn

I mourn for the times when I didn't think so hard

I trade

I trade my crown of thorns for a graven alter

I wait

I wait for an easy alternative

I wet

I wet my lips in anticpation of kisses


They almost always taste of ash and stale wishes

This poem is about: 



Nice progression and use of repetition

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