an ember
slowly
turns to
ash
as it rides
the thermals
to land
casually
in the corner of
an unsuspecting
eye.
through teary
discombobulation
the dissolution of
reality
becomes less
hypothetical
fully embracing the
disaffected
disinterest
of atrocious
dystrophy.
but sometimes
a good cry
is all that spans
the void of
suffering.
So very true
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