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#17
We're all so absent.
Crying in tandem to our dying dreams.
Please.
Come back.
From so far out there you float in miasma.
Give us back our hope.
The things that get us through our days.
Our cherished.
Memories.

But the empty don't dream.
awake but unaware,
so asleep.
a mattress made of fear
and the sheets
protect you from the chills
of the truth as high as hills
and mountain peaks.
-
eyes open,
but you are looking
so blind.
look inward
you will see
and you will find
visuals of heart and soul,
spirit guided,
being whole,
and a certain form of peace
within your mind.
i can't wait to share the meanings behind my writing, if they aren't already clear..

— The End —