strange

it is strange

sometimes i see my words in other places, fall from other lips, inked from someone else’s pen

is it the butterfly effect

i get a heady sense of deja vu, confusion, discomfort

am i the illusionary one, not quite here

or were they touched by the same illness that courses through me

infected by my lazy whirlpool, injected with my increasing madness, dejected by life as well

the rustle of black wings, just at the edge of consciousness, a dream cry into the night

it all seems so strange

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7 thoughts on “strange

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