Cut the Deck
So this is how it feels to grow
Or better yet to groan
Alone, unholy scared
As though the gods have pared
Us down to basic shares
Spliced together in random pairs
Fear and hope, faith and fear
Always lurking near
Always standing here
Forever on the cusp
Of almost growing up
Or throwing up
Or laying down
And taking pound for pound
Whatever doubt is dealing out
Fake a smile to hide a pout
I thought this would be easy
I thought this would be hard
Who knew that the reasons
Could ever be so charged
That no argument could hold them
We built a house of cards.
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