The Jen behind It.

The moonlight penetrates my bosoms from the high light of the window
Narrowed and convincing the mortality rates rise
Shadowing existence like a dollar bill slipping out of my bra strap
Judgment cradles my lap as the dollar falls – I grasp
Dissipating and flagging my thoughts as though I lived a life of sobriety and existence
It escapes me to a never-ending reality
Corpses amuse me like the foundations and the sincerities
Molding the collapse swimming through my eyes
Befuddled grudges and baffled dues
Put your coin in my hand and walk away slowly
Don’t look back and sink woe-lee
Society of narcissist in your bag of tricks
Looking up at me embrace the heretic
Breaking down the laminate of pervasiveness
The underlying materialism
Concepts and embezzlements

If you catch me late in the hours you can catch the true Jen
Un-friended and material-less and impended

Jen-nor-I-eties…specializing between beauty and the real rise
Of the doctorate of existence
You, me and the money it doesn’t buy behind it.

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