What if I tore up the map -
not gentle, but ruthless,
ripping until the roads bled white,
and let my feet kiss the dirt
like they were born to wander?
What if I spit out the words
I’ve swallowed for years,
each syllable a blade,
carving silence into something
that finally screams back?
What if I let the darkness in-
not as a foe, but...
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