i can't remember what something real ever was. it's like i've never felt it accept my flaws. n yet, it could be i passed up on the wrong ones that reached for my chest. i can't recall one time the other end of life was met. being within relations has always been a roundabout way of things. like a revolving door spinning to let one out n another in. the memory slips on the thought of faces becoming a blur in the back of the mind. somehow i've cheated myself with decisions that created a possibility that never play out to my favor through time. seems moments weren't what they were when looking back. not one single friend ever stood their grounds as an enjoyment in the hand's grasp. all the reoccurences that fill drifting daydreams are struggles to coexist. everything gained has been empty materialistic nonsenses one needs to survive. n with every hello, there's a following of goodbye's. with blank pieces of self to put back in their rightful place. there's no recollection of luv in my face. jus a confusion set aside to live while i can before even i do not exist. n that in itself is the bare minimum of the twist...
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