(not sure what this is. I’m frustrated by how little I write these days and so just kind of wrote.)

Tryna go back to feelings again 

Like when I could cry and find solace in writing

Before shutting myself off from any love or even kindness

Years grasping at the last minute and left after with nothing but darkness 
I want to tell you I care

But the words fail me every time 

They disappear off

I’ll never know where

And I’m left just standing there
Writing was following the light and

Started to set things right

That light became every spotlight, disco rig and dense stare of awaiting eyes

Random eyes

Strangers eyes with no danger of recognition

I was myself and nothing else

Though maybe a little drunk rendition

Reading feeling creative vibes from excited eyes

I spoke

I met

I toked plenty of cigarettes 
I lost it

(Whatever it is/was)

Lost feeling

Just grappling at an identity unreeling

Every word felt like a lie

Trying to describe this abstract ‘I’ 
The night sky is a nice reminder 

That I am nothing

I am minuscule 
This all is
It’s quiet
As close as you can get to silent
Rustling leaves, the earth whispering to me
Warm breeze

Nice night

Accompanied by gentle ember light
I am scared
But I am calm

The wind ruffles the hairs on my arm

I feel it

So it must be real it must be real it must be real

It must be

I don’t know

I was headed somewhere but 

I’ve forgotten the way 

to go


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