Self-objectified endings

i objectified myself
the moment i
touched myself.
i don’t need your
assumption when
i’ve made mine.

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There, would you look here

here                                  hey, over here.
whoa, you’re a bit far?
naw, not really. you can still read me.
i guess you’re right. why over           there?
i’m just trying something new to me.
i see. how’s it working out for yeah?
looks different, but it feels the same.

My mind is an ashtray

looking down the
barrel of futility,
scurrying those
of achievement.
negation of being,
present complexity,
counters our ancestors.
i accept the debris
of that disposed.
treasure found amonsgt
the discarded.
gold shines upon the eyes
of those who see.
i walk blind,
generally,
but specific light,
illuminating what’s been missed.
this luster emanates a bias brilliance
my intellect cannot fathom.
i speak what i feel,
yet what i feel
does not always speak.