stirs me up.

a string hanging so desperately


nothing to hold itself to

such suspended feelings i have

when i look back

those old walls

those rusting pillars

creepers framing everything, everyone

in a mysterious kind of play

a theater of delicate thoughts dancing like children

so carefree days i left behind

whenever i see, i turn away unconsciously

too much has been left

too much have been lost

and if i were to shed tears

they might be stained deep

deep in a crude shade of red

of want, longingness, a nostalgic affection

buried somewhere i would rather

never go.


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