Like a paper plane made to break the moment it takes off.
Im here. A vase destined to fall.
My words.
They shatter leaking puddles of months old water staining the white floor.
Repetitive cycles, monotonous outcomes..Rereading the book I wrote the ending to.
"Hello" is losing its essense yet "Goodbye" still carries its grief.I see patterns within these blindfolds. I see the stage. I see the act.
Scribble your words until theyre written apparently stateless.
Until they are brittle enough to crumble.
Your drunken words are faceless.
So are mine.
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Maps are capable of being excessively strenous to follow. Everystop had sight seeing scenery supplying serenity to my mind but ironically this serenity dwells only temporarily. I'm poisoned in the sense that emotions plague me in injections that are irreversible.
I have a million sweet nothings I'd love to connote to your ears for looking inside me.
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