Melting musicEnlarged nights Buried in a veil of quillsIt’s being written in my sleep
Over & overyou run to your lines from lifeexperience washes over youalienating usas the boat slips into another language
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Red, Pink, White, YellowRoses of different colors,But all fragrant and mellow,With…
Is there a term for that feeling — when you are drowning in your own sea of thoughts.
.
Stoicism is a prison/
Though I break out/