It's not about the stuff you spackle on your face; I'd make a list and it would say nothing.
A little clouded; a little contradiction and a thin distraction... it's all nothing.
I'll swing by saturday so you can tell me you forgot.
The biohazard that sits inside your mouth: call it opinion, either way it's nothing.
The desperation won't admit how very desperate... how very beautiful it is to be nothing.
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