Why do i

a writing by william andrews

Why do I
consider myself
Why do I
not understand
that there is no
only me
me never existed
there is only us
within a container
we like to call
a brain
where we sit back
and bitch whine and moan
impatiently waiting
for the day
when this container breaks
and we
can go home
hoping beyond hope
we never come back
to this
suffering of a life
that's become

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