repressed memories
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You're like smoke.
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Shapeless, or just too many shapes to settle on anything real, anything solid.
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If I make myself look, I can see you- a looming, dark, mass always present in the corner of my thoughts
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It's dark again.
I used to pray
I used to say it was all pretend
Then no one was watching.
The lights went out
My body was sucked away
I couldn't go back
I shouldn't go back
