What was our life when it began?
Was there some beauty in the mess? I've pondered years of interaction Wondering if we should've met Through hopeless distance, I adored you In awkward silence, I came alive If our whole lives were in this moment Then there is meaning, I contrive Perhaps a silhouette, a ghost now Phantasmal dancing in the room There was once some sense of happiness In it's memory, I'm consumed I turn my tired eyes towards our failure Flipping through every empty page This leather binding just reminds me Of how I turned and walked away But if you're reading, please believe This book could be complete someday I'll keep on writing, you here with me Our story in a vibrant, colored array This was our life when it began There was beauty in the mess I'd give up all my years of searching Just to relive the moment we met
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Author"Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls." - Anais Nin Archives
February 2023
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