It’s almost as if a peach seed
is growing in my heart
for reasons
I’m not sure of.

Is it possible to know what
you are living for with such
gusto and all of a sudden, not be sure
of what you are doing anymore?

The way the sky looks down at me
seems so ordinary
and the way the wind collides with
my hair feels like a long lost dream.

Everything feels like a long lost dream.
The way my chest refuses to move
to the rhythm it has been taught.
The way my blood pumps to the
beat of resistance.
Everything is a long lost dream.

And now, it seems, I have to sleep, to retrieve them.


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