As vines we overcame.
Entangled and enraptured.
Eyes alike but
Aglow with reflections
Of foreign landscapes.
We bought into a sky divine
And hid our yearnings from ourselves
In the shadows
To pass.
Escaping spoils untainted by a silence
We still chose to believe in
Yet deny.

This is not home,
But a temporary corruption.
A fate denied repetitively;
A silent violence;

The noise reduction
We thought was sustenance
Erased the whispers
We so desperately needed to hear;
And turned them into muted screams.
It’s oddly symmetrical
The way we lie to our inner voices.
The way we dishonor ourselves so easily
In order to avoid that which makes sense.

Slowly we ease comfortably
Back into unease.

The death scene daydream.

The clouds rolling;

The immolation of dreams
Turned to ashes and dust.
Scattered as memories
Into the infinite.

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