Masterpiece formed into a rare context and never read. Sitting still enough, motions seem as if they don’t care. Waiting it sits patiently nervous for me to help it breath.
I tell it what to say as I leave me out to dry without a sound. All emotions opened in rare form with all I believe. Written in silence words stand alone in line straight, curved, and round.
Taunting me it takes a liking to my will to give it just a little bit more. Pausing I try to keep up with it’s emptiness that needs a thrill. Pushing out the insides towards the absent expression of the core.
Like a puzzle locked in tight, letters join for a greater purpose. My life is splattered through the stains in which it drips in the wind. Trying t live up to the expectations of space making me ever so nervous.
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