Spotting green icon. Again. Was out in the mall the night before. And shadows everywhere. I may be surrounded by all lovely supportive people. But neither gratify the hollow path. Solitary. Deep inside.
No sight of affixation. Perhaps that's the end of the tunnel. But where are the lights.
I constantly keep myself hustled. Wishing to closed that door. But it's just too heavy. I wish to speak. But I lost my voice and interest. I long to be alone. To mourn over. But I can't.
Nichole
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