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Jan 2016
the grains of the sidewalk sharply press into our bodies as bright lights poke and stab into our minds.

the feeling begins to collapse upon us as the dark lingering sounds of decay loom around the atmosphere in a circular fashion.

being misguided by the unstable offering of repetition, none of us can look at each other directly. the fabrics of matter start to blend into our skin creating the effect of a perfectly manufactured human.

i do not care about the people around me right now.

the sound collapses again.

i look into her eyes and see myself. nothing could be so fake.

walking into the lights i feel like an entitled child searching for attention. and i love every moment of it.
martin
Written by
martin  DC
(DC)   
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