Saturday, February 11, 2017

Some nights are longer than others. Some dreams are lighter than others. There are mornings I wake up with an urge to forget my name, to forget people and how to step, but still I cannot forget everything.
Some poems are soothing. Some moments are flavorsome and unkind. If only time would halt, I’d go out looking for a song
Left hung on his shoulders,
The mighty

Where I truly belong

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