Misplaced

Once, my eyes didn’t reflect a nightmare.

i can no longer remember who that was.

 

I wrote those lines weeks ago and haven’t been able to add to them. They are constantly in my head, but alone, torn from every other thought I have. I want to flesh them out, make them whole, form an idea around them. But they feel unconcerned with me. And haunting me. Someone should write poems for me, that would vastly improve my output.

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Misplaced

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