
Photo by Irina Iriser from Pexels
My gaze travels to you across the endless valley of our dinner table as my mind molds a ruthless stampede of questions from the clay of your silence.
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In what direction are you looking? Is there one in particular?
Are you rolled up or rolled thin or both?
Are there holes within, like a rotting wood?
Does your decay hold life inside too?
Is your brain a cloud? Is it leaking?
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Chaos exudes from me in tendrils that wrap around your spine and squeeze. Hurriedly, I look down to break their grasp.
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Everything is something smaller and something bigger.
My cells are trying their best for you.
About the Creator
DLC
Rambling is a passion of mine.. I write a lot of unplanned poetry. I hope you enjoy.



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