I can't relate to you, to your needs.
They are foreign to me.
Things I wanted in a past life but now?
Now they turn to dust in my hand, ashes in my mouth, white noise.
So far, so far I've travelled without gaining speed or momentum.
It's not even yearning anymore.
I want this lessened, not more layered on top.
I want to see the bottom of the basket, clean it out and start afresh.
Worry later about what I threw away.
Now.
Now I need that space for my own.
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