2/365

.
Lucky thirteen lies
over me, a rough embrace.
Strong abusive love.



Originally this haiku was created on the Thursday night of May 13— as a means of showing my mild triskaidekaphobia— often I avoid ocurrences of thirteen just to be safe— lately, to combat the absurdity of it all I mention the number, over-embellish its state of ill-fortune. Wanting to establish metaphors explaining the psychological connection that lies between situations I avoid and the conscious, waking self.


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