Seams
He runs along the seams.
stretching, and tearing, and ripping open.
if only to see his dreams.
if only the witness his hope and reason
truckle before his feet and flee.
glutton of sorrow!
You breathe melancholy with a sigh so pathetic and petty.
do i owe you pity?
Im just so tired of stumbling so far behind
stithcing the gaps that follow your mind.
why dont you take a rest?
Why dont yoy rewind?
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