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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