Well I've lost all my words
at least the way I used to have them
and that just seems cruel and empty. I can't even write like I want to: quote poetry, live with mindfulness, have grande realizations. What is this sorry way.
I don't like it.
Take it back.
Go back.
Lost in all this worry, and regret. Filled with should-haves and maybes.
Caught between fully realizing my self OR others, and as a compromise understanding neither.
All these little pains,
these little thoughts of light
and weariness.
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