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Mar 2020
I’ve got drooping, pacific eyes
Unkempt hair
Spread across my rumpled pillow
Turquoise Dollar Tree headphones
Covered in shadows
Tuned out
From the outside world

I am listening to
A voice stretched with pain
Imperfect, but at the same time
Fighting a war against
The world itself
Vivid bass
Booming through my ears
And the striking of drums
Lightning echoing
Out my headphones
The coarse voice
Filled with agony and the grief
Of millions of those forever lost,
And his muted guitar
Come to a gentle end


I haltingly return to reality
Turning around and
Clicking on
A new melody
I settle back in
To this new world
And finally close my eyes.
I am home.
Willow Silvera
Written by
Willow Silvera
79
 
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