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Where all the extra thoughts go

I observe all things around me

I analyze and write what I see,

extra trimmings which remain unwritten

freely spill over into a dream.

They all seem to come together

to create something shockingly new,

My mind never achieves conception

of what is made up and what is true.

In this world I’ve come to know

often the only one I can honestly trust,

takes the leftover thoughts of my day

and transforms them into lust.

This is where I can truly be me

no pressure of love and fear,

for the second my eyes do open

the evidence will disappear.

The sadness will come when I awake

when I realize for now it is gone,

I just need to try and remind myself

awaiting tonights advent won’t be long…

 

 

 
36 Comments

Posted by on January 20, 2018 in My day, poetry, writing

 

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