Sunday, September 10, 2017


Riddle me this / future me that. Past the cove I find you still. You do not move and the world is a hill. I sold you off and now all the wisdoms I've amassed cannot will you back. Bring you back. Win you back. 

But you are not a prize. You are the gift self aware.

I am sorry we did not become what we would. I regret we didn't arrive where we could've sailed. I jumped and now I'm too wet. I did not become what you knew my parts could sum. I am here still... accounting for all that I could not then fathom and count but only redoubt. 


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