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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