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Jul 1
Everything...
Is temporary.
And I alone carry this burden in which
No one—NO ONE
Can understand.

They don’t know!
That while they laugh
I cling to every note, keeping them like fireflies in a jar,
For looms the morn where darkness fills my ears
And their faces run like chalk in the rain

They don’t know
How actions feel brittle like seashells—
Their impacts; meaningless.
Their tomorrows, as far as the moon
For the future they create
I will not be there for it

They don’t know
What life beyond the train is like
But I do—raised in the fields blurring past
As I stare out the window knowing that
Soon I will no longer journey with them
Oh how even joy cuts sharp
when you know it won't last.

They don’t know
How I rehearse my farewell

They don’t know
They don’t know
They don’t know
And I can’t tell them
The guilt when someone who looks up to you says they’re looking forward to working with you in the same department when you know you won’t be there for it. The worst part? I can’t tell anyone.
Lostling
Written by
Lostling  Visiting my grave
(Visiting my grave)   
57
 
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