Longing for freedom but

grasping illusions – the

usual faces placate my

confusions – growing

nauseous from the constant

delirium of trauma that

follows from how I

run to more drama, and

so I keep knocking on those

doors of my past in search

of a joy that was not

there before, disregarding

I already hold the key to

this dream but have

submerged it somewhere

beneath fantasy.

 

 

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