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Echo Seeking Narcissus.

Go on.

Throw your soul
into another one not fit
to contain the radiance.

A sight for sore eyes
always dancing elegantly
before the blind.
Another phantom voice
in a chorus of echoes
sung exclusively
for the deaf.

Let the instinct trick
you into its grips.
Beneath the now, history skips.
I can feel you crumbling
as your hopes and dreams meet
yet another frigid wall.

I’m aching and I’m powerless.
My kingdom of shit
for some magick words.

After long enough in prison
liberty only brings anxiety,
so you run on back,
wrists yearning
for shackles that won’t let go.

Some pick the scabs
before the wound can heal,
some live to overwrite old lacerations.

You were never
one to take anything halfway.
Subtlety has never
been your style.
You have always been too real
for the world,
a beauty it cannot help
but suffocate.

Yet you fight and you strive
until you have had all you can take,
then you bleed to me or in ink
when you medicate.

I don’t want to have to
watch you die again.
Killing me, calling me,
high as the sky and crying again.
Feeling cold and alone, soaked
to the bones by the rain within.

This wheel keeps spinning,
same old cycles.
Your bruised and battered heart
keeps beating, despite the constant breaking.

How many times do you have to die
within a single life, my dear?
How long till the sky clears,
leaving you with your well-earned smile?

How long until you let you?

I want to live to see you alive
for the first time.
Naked beyond the skin,
unashamed before embracing eyes.

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