Lately my head’s been in the water, swimming in all the thoughts it can’t hold, and when I open my mouth, can’t help but swallow the sound of the splashing of my fingers and toes. I know one day when my body washes up on the shoreline, I’ll cough up all the water that I swallowed as the sound of the bile as it collides with the sand tells the tales of the footsteps I followed.

Well, I know where I don’t what to go, but I don’t know how not to get there. There is so much of my life I can’t remember. Sometimes I wonder if I even should. But the reaction from the crowds that lit a fire in my soul is soul is still kindling like bonfire wood.

I know where I don’t what to go, but I don’t know how not to get there.
Or, how to get there again.


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