My shadow imprints the concrete every day,
in every month, with any weather, brightest in May.
There’s a noise in my head, a whispering clutching everything I am,
a sense of awareness, a sharp knife that can never go dull.
When I awoke and saw what I would never do I ran,
my breath feels elevated, the world seems small like the view from a Gull.
I want your hand on my breast, your hot breath on my neck.
Every day has been a fight, a schizophrenic scream in dark tunnels, listening to noises that echoed the cold concrete walls surrounding.
My doubt was so strong I started to believe my own nightmares,
from AM to P.M.
never letting go of Sam.
I want to break all the rules I held myself down with, I want to exceed every limit. I want my spark to never go to waste, I want to see every dark corners treasure. I will be better, I will be better, I must be better. That’s why I write these letters. For me and everyone, for me and no one. I must make them, the shy guy who never liked to smile in pictures is fading, the memories of every sharp howling painful breath leaving. My body will be a temple, my mind a machine so complex, no one can hurt it. Cogs with redundant paths, ciphers and literature scrawling it’s surface. Every path explored, every smile real. A light in eyes that none notice. Body language that screams, “life can be this.” Perhaps not with you, perhaps with you, but life must reach that point no matter what. I must achieve it, I must.
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