by Lizardin Bain

Ping pong

Back and forth, back and forth

swaying indecisive.

Incisive and indifferent

crying over sentimentality

that is not here nor there

middle

my favorite spot

that I love to hate

and hate to love

tipping forward and fall back

it’s exhausting

to wake up one

and morph into another

before coffee

touches an empty belly.

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4 thoughts on “Ping pong”

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