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Writing
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Reaching for air
I keep reaching
for something I know I can't have
But I decide
To waste my energy anyway
All I want is for
you to look at me
The way you look at him
I'm searching for that
To hold on to
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Plato's Smartphone
I couldn’t see anything. I stumbled around, trying to find the wall of the cave. After walking aimlessly, I began to hear a distant noise — murmuring mixed with the sound of soft tapping.
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The Wolf Who Mauled His Own Wounds
I wasn't always the stoic, expressionless introvert who rarely smiled. There was a time when I loved greeting people on walkways and actively sought out new connections.
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Childhood
Childhood,
The state of being a child
Childhood,
A phase of innocence and immaturity
Childhood,
A period of pure laughter and unadulterated joy
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Tearing myself apart
It's tearing me apart
Your words echoing in my head
Your eyes shining in my memory
Im scared of you but it's because of me
I never liked myself
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Glimpse
It is a wandering
sort of day
(wandering mind
wandering feet
wandering eyes)
before I find the camera.
It looks old enough
that I wonder
how it still works.