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somewhat grey

incidental

yet so real –

to not be seen,

in ones recovery…

 

enigmatic as sight

must seem,

to one who cannot see!

 

how did the great,

become –

recumbent,

good?

 

night used to shower us in starlight;

prelude to morning sun…

ostentatious as full-moon!

but now,

there is no hole in the shroud of darkness…

and finding our – selves –

all alone,

intensifies the insecurity…

 

life raft – lost at sea.

addiction,

without the comfort of –

an addict!

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About boyfrommville

bound to a fate i cannot escape, i stop by briefly to expunge the demons... care to join me?

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