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Feb 2015
This the object most fragile,
And most adhering.
Knows no wisdom.
The effort to be invisible,
Yet even the blind can see.
Ensnares the owner in agony.
One word,
One glance,
One touch,
One breath,
One second to make it bleed,
To make it shatter.
Sanity and all rationality dissipate.
Trust it never.
Betrayal.
Impulsive.
Self-destructive.
Although strength may grow,
It is stifled by weakness and shadow.
Doubt ever deepens,
Hope ever fades.
Passion so intense,
Extinguish this desire.
The sharp and searing pain,
Still feels so… dull.
Silence so loud,
Gives rise to insanity.
Too arrogant and self-righteous
To ever learn from past mistakes
And confines destiny.
A fog envelops the mind
Lost in a shroud,
No map, no memory.
Faded by time,
Devoid of all beauty.
The greatest joy unreachable.
Fate has written that it will never be.
It is impossible, a tragedy really.
Heather Anderson
Written by
Heather Anderson  27/F/Chicago
(27/F/Chicago)   
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