i imagined a story here in the dark with torn clouds bleeding red and lives upon lives upon more lives and it was like the most beautiful dream, i couldn't really put it to words. you simply had to be there, gorgeous and flowing and the perfect sort of silence is all it needed to fill in the spaces where words couldn't be. it's lost though, i think, you'd have tears for me if you knew how much it hurts to feel a piece of your head trapped, forever.

it is resting on my lashes, heavier every time i feel the gentle glide of flesh over my eyes.. i am not real, not at all, who took your eyes away? they were so.. stars..

it is this, how to pretend you are a writer, how to feel without falling, how to stand without stumbling over your own thought.. i watch you swim through a crowd, fish like with your little mouth closed so tight don't look up, don't let them see you don't forget to breathe.

half-faces left on benches, fingers wrapped forever around a high tree branch, out of sight. hearts spilled to the ground, visible in the slats of light through the cracked window your soul, you know i am talking to myself, most of the time. we left ourselves everywhere and now we are all these tiny shining pieces, scattered across the earth and that is why it is so cold to be alone.

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