there's that feeling again. like suffocation. like nothing's
happening. it seems like life's become drifting from one good memory to
the next, looking back, thinking about then, trying to avoid now.
the
shoving off and shrugging off just let it pile up like caked walls,
coated in things you wished you'd never touched. the cement and plaster
slopped on to hold it all together isn't enough, and now the walls are
folding in on themselves at the top, cutting out the air, blacking out
the clouds.
such is life.
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