The Reason Why I Started Writing This, It Left Right In the Middle of it

Sittin in fear. Huddled.
But I got old school hip-hop—
I love it when you call me Big Papa—
but it fades out as I write this.
Literally, as I wrote that.
And that’s how it starts, yeah?
The unbeknownst flare-up, out there on the
fringe of consciousness. Slowly seeping in
until you’re something.
Then you’re not.

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