It steals laughs
It seals cries
It steals connections
Possibilities, futures
Faces from hands
Hands from backs
…
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It steals laughs
It seals cries
It steals connections
Possibilities, futures
Faces from hands
Hands from backs
…
There’s rarely fights
(We’re too solid for that, after all)
There’s just insidious malcontent
Morphing into anger first
And then, sometimes, madness
Turned inwards, burning from the inside out
…
Re-reading calmly:
poems written months ago
feel like yesterday
Old words remembered:
today they make me wonder
if I’ll ever change
In the corridors of your presence
I find four heavy doors
Behind the first
If I want to make thoughts real
Can form the words
And can synchronize the throat
I do
Behind the second…
How sad is it, that
love can grow without limits
while time only shrinks
How your voice somehow seems richer to me when you say their name
How your eyes look different in ways my mind cannot quite fully grasp
When you speak of them
When you share with me the plans your heart carries
Of your greatest possible future
…
If you always choose as you’ve always chosen,
you’ll always receive the same reward.
We breathe by virtue of accident,
at chance’s mercy.
Resting fate’s hand in yours,
curl up in your cocoon
as comfortably as you can.
Morning came again:
confusing mix of apathy
and disappointment
.
3:45 AM