Words can’t convey my loss of breath,
And they won’t lift the weight in my chest,
Or free me from the edge of tears I can’t shed,
Or unbind the chains that crush my heart,
Words won’t bring me peace,
Or free my heart of this embrace,
And the only blade to slay this beast,
Must be forged in the blood of my mistakes,
To be impervious of such similar folly,
And cut straight through my heart,
Ripping away all of my constraints,
But I carry no sheathe to hold such a sword,
So my body swiftly strikes the ground,
And as I lay there staring at the stars,
Time drifts by and caresses my eyes,
And visions give themselves to me,
Of futures and destinies primed to unwind,
Of a castle pretending not to be impregnable,
And a bird pretending not to fall,
Of a village pretending not to be poor,
And men and women all pretending not to die alone,
And then the sun rose extending its light to pierce the chill air,
And the stars slunk back into the darkness from whence they came,
And I arose, slowly, drinking in the sun’s warm rays,
Until I felt strong and whole and unstoppable.

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