Missing, trying to find ways to cope with this unreleased passion
The words need to bridge growing and digital emptiness
Words are action without the facial tics to show light on them
They are sharp, filling the air, combating silence that exists
Thrown back at each other as razors in a wind tunnel
So thin, that wounds are not felt till blood begins to drip
Do not give up, come closer, too close, I can not breath, back off
Hearing false inflections, making up stories, writing their endings
A dark spiral, a sad state, a virtual world, and a love worth it all
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