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The Ache of Florescence

I haven’t been myself lately, kind of like trying to copy who I am from a blurry image. Parts of me feel like smoke and now I’m just waiting for a strong enough breeze to sweep me away.

There are parts of my head that I want to shut off, and there are parts of my heart I want to keep quiet. I can’t tell where this screaming is coming from but these tears keep threatening to spill from my eyes. It’s like there’s a tripped wire somewhere in me that has let something shift, when it shouldn’t.

It doesn’t feel like a cold friend. And this doesn’t have a sick comforting familiarity.

Something aches inside of me, something feels missing. I can’t put my finger on it but I feel the gray under my skin. Warm water doesn’t wash it away and neither does his hands.

I don’t know where I got lost but somehow I have no idea where I am. I’m lost even to myself.

I want to wake up and pretend this is all a dream. But it’s not, and there’s no warm bed I’ve forgotten to wake up in.

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