Fell on fell days. A poem.

Fell on
fell days.
Coaxed
anxiously
from the storm
that rages mutually in this
misconceiving heart.

Fell days,
fallen,
overtaken,
redistributed,
emotions cascading like
misdirected
energy streams through
angst-filled fibres.

Fell days,
in here,
somewhere.
No return?
No matter, better to wallow
in self-regret
then continue to pretend.

Fallen on fell days,
but better
than self-delusion.

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