Dear

Memory, let’s trust being awake for days pursuit.
I can take a future gift of simple voices.
We are the welcomer to choices.
Hurry, meet me on a rock.
Unwrap life’s moments.

Soil is being pushed over the bodyless.
An instant worn out and blistering
weaving drama from your lips.
I’m taking love. My torn out pages were empty without you leaving me.
Shifting the sand can be as easy as lifting the sun.
Tying my shoes so I can run,
tonight is the night before I become a poet.

I’m making my last wish and no one hears it besides this piece of paper.
Thought, reflex, or journey,
look this over in the morning when the sun is brighter.
My words and this process right now are very elusive.
Free media is existing to mind the laws and forbidden shock is noticing free media.

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2 responses to “Dear

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