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Nov 2011
On me like peeling skin;
A part of me but dying.
Flaking off, drifting down,
Forgetting that you belonged to me.

Summer is here, but doesn't
Smell like Summer smells.
It seems like more bugs
Are dying in the light.

Friends surround me like
Junk at a yard sale.
Familiar, but about to
Be lost in the distance.

Belonging isn't what we want here.
It doesn't matter how
Important you make me feel,
I'll never feel it.

When I'm here with them,
I'm there alone.
The people who were there
Aren't allowed to care anymore.

Society loves to dream,
Take pride in themselves,
Dreaming their dreams,
Leading new crowds.

But dreaming a dream, to me,
Is more than pride or sleeping.
Creating memories that weren't remembered,
Forgetting the ones that were.

You're here with me,
Except not in reality.
No one to talk to,
No one I need.

Rapidly tripping
Just to fall to sleep.
You're all I have left
To dream about in dreams.
Kate Browning
Written by
Kate Browning
576
 
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