i stand at the top of the stairs.
it's fucking cold, and the sun is slowly
melting past the hills.
the low temperature always gives me a
clearer perspective; i don't know if it's
because my body is trying to compensate
or maybe evolve.
as i step down to the knolls i know,
all the outlines of my life are brought out
to me in clarity.
i breathe the clear air that is substance-less
and hope i don't float away again.
in the back of my head are all the thoughts
that try too hard to get to the front
of my head; my exercise entails keeping the
gates up in case of intrusion.
too often i find myself mumbling aloud
some obscurities of my heart and wishing i
needn't be alone.
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