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In The Shards of Our Past

With time that passed we line up again. Your legs take you only so far. Dream like sequences with blurred vision. New derision from calls made a thousand years ago. Or so it felt like when passion called and fashion had us sold in an embrace of acquaintances. I slowly make my dreams in the shards of our past.

New lives, new dawn, new ways to drown all preceding hope. Intercepting lives is just a phone call away. Living as a ghost with flesh and bone. New dreams to call your own. To call off when the time comes. The anxiety you induce privately, switches to publicly seduce all incomers. Remember the price that was paid while your health does the shimmies, the shakes and the jolts that come it.

Sell me a dummy and I'm your perfect fool - the pain in my body means I was practically worthless to you. I'm just exhausted in the art of pretences. Wallow in misery with a withering intensity. I alienate myself from everyone I ever talk to - and there are those who will do so before I say a word. Too much damaged goods, too many brave faces. I never could relate anyway....it's probably why I'm here in the first place.

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