"I am lacking",
that sheer feeling of release
the moment those words escape
the lips, is also empty.
When was it? The first time
it knew no lightness, no comfort.
When was it? It sounded so crisp
so fragile that they'd break
and stop being true.
Here, it had stopped.
Without promise of meaning,
of solution, of resolution, of end.
Like it had always truly meant
to abandon it's self.
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