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Alice, Alex; Amber

It’s not often we’re together you and I within this unconscious soul, drugs; alcohol last time we met. And, as before, always, we’ll fight the two of us like squirming ferrets in this gray sack she calls her mind. Who will prevail before she wakes? The one that doesn’t recognize the child she bore? The one that spits and shouts at everyone comes near? There was a third, we buried it some time ago; we together, in some forsaken corner. Yet still; it appears in some dreams she has.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Date: 12/31/2024 11:18:00 AM
Wow this is so deep. I am not sure I get it completely but it sure is true and surely the buried one is a metaphor!
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things