Finished

Brain soup of the day
A dish served all by itself
No accoutrements

Perhaps unready
Still emptied out from before
But also attuned

Attuned and obtained
Tumultuously sober
A Phoenix Un(bound)(chained)

So first and foremost
Topsy turvy form of sleep
As the boat (un)rocks

Then true dreams begin
Ones I've only darkly glimpsed
Whilst so plantly plagued

It may take me time
Mastering currents without
But I have ample

Holds akin to death
Threaten and hasten the grave
Those were its stingers

Now I'd rather die
Than return down the same paths
Nicotine no more

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