A jar of spackling paste,

A cork when the water is ankle deep,

A counselor,

An escape.

Not quite good enough but good enough

in a pinch, like a bag of shitty weed.

An Everlast punching bag, streaked

white from bare knuckles.

A puzzled piece that doesn’t fit.

You smash down with a bruised fist

but it’s still out of place,

distorting the image that should be.

Taken from the package, used,

devalued, and tossed

into a heap

with all of the other broken toys.

Minimal resale value.

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