on the outside, looking in.
It is easy to play the role of ourselves,
only the heart protests,
At first.
We forget,
forget what we wanted, who we used to be
and why we came.
Life catches up and dreams become a little blurry.
I thrive on the fuzziness of those dreams, almost forgotten.
A shock jolts me back to where I began
Where I still live, even when I am elsewhere.
Someday I will be there with me.
At the same time.
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