When the feel of an unsettling day comes into focus. Knowing something is missing and everything seems hopeless. There’s a moment where self admits life just isn’t the same. As age catches up to a smile stretched across the face. Weighed down by an absence that makes the mind wonder of what it could be. Thoughts gather to fill the emptiness created by dreams. With nights that repeatedly go on and on. To days awakened too that are stagnant to the norm. With pieces scattered about just needing to be put together again. A world outside awaits the finding of what could be felt by the hands. But where’s that one thing that rejuvenates life? When it’s the only thing craved so the heart isn’t doing time. In the makings of the drifting just trying to live in silence. Avoiding the confusion and heartache that acts out immaturities and even violence. Seeing first hand the beginning always returns to the end. Just to rely on who it is within to be a never ending friend. And yet, it’s not enough to just stagger one’s way through an endless phase. A stranger in the mirror mimics gestures to how happiness is to be explained. Hearing not one thing slipping from the lips in which has a physical reference to be enjoyed. It’s just a blabbering safety net where emotions rest and are never deployed. As the void creeps up and whispers faint truths when self is alone. Is this all there is to this place called home?
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