I can, I can’t.

Caved in and drawn out,
I’m a believer of my own cuts.

I chase the rhythm where it deems,
No fault of my own.

I’m blessed to be disturbed by no other,
I wake to love and feel to breathe.

I become once more a chaser in the lie,
Un-doing the rest disastrously with happenstance.

To the other,
I’m slowly living out the trauma of my memories,
Unraveling like decay in the wind.

I need the end to begin,
Veering out of focus in time with the fault,
I tremble to keep steady with zero alliances.

Too much room to to breathe,
I’m thinking in circles and heeding the whispers just beyond my call.

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