Thursday, August 1, 2024

the idea

the idea is fantastical
a strange fantasy
an illogical make believe
a made up string
a fleeted fling

the idea remains an idea
suppressed down below
swimming to the surface
destroy it, save my face
leave it without a trace

teaching the mirror
if only mirrors could talk
then i might not be so alone
trapped in my own thoughts

"make it make sense" 
the undertones of those beatings
i surrender and i accept my loss
now stop filling the space of my reasonings

let me sleep
and let me be in peace

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