You can slur your dream world but at this hour you always speak of the future tense, your not ready for plans. Your afraid.
Your favourite songs been skipped on the record needle, you forced yourself to listen as the next song played, it made you scream.. it ripped you inside and out, the words... the beautiful lyrics vanish into the mainstream.
Subconciousness, where virtual minds are torn apart at words that forgot their meaning.. a LONG time ago. Maybe you can carve a heart from your desk, it will be red ochre, it wont need paint or a disguise to cover the wounds that are immortal.
The image that reflects, leaves you in vain. Who are you ? What difference have you made ?
I put the mirror down & there i am, Feelingless.
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