Independence

The edges of the pages from the story of my life
Are frayed
I can’t stand so strait no more
I can’t keep track of the things
-all those things that cause me pain
That sea in which I dwell
such a welcoming torturous hell
as I sink beneath it’s waves
I see sparks of lightning
distorted by the waters magic
as I sink
but I dream of green valleys
and gentle sunlight
trees on rolling hills
with rivers and ponds
their waters glinting in the sun
with a different magic
as I sit on a hill.

I wish that you were in that dream
but as I sink
your voice distorted by the waves
the waters of grief welcome me
and bring me down.

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