human condition
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The tilt of you, the fractures where the light slips in. I trace your doubts like constellations. Your mistakes beg for reverence, a desperate proof of life. I shaped you into a vision without weight, perfection hollowing all meaning until I warped your memory just to survive. There is no hesitation in standing bare, skin
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You cannot fight a ghost; feelings and people alike. When I sleep, my demons linger at night; each face bears a resemblance to people I’ve known in life. A cemetery for my tragedies settles in my mind. I’m haunted by my lack of strength and self-deprecating pride. A Trimester is worth a lifetime of guilt;
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A Made Man sacrifices company for comfort. Frightened by peers’ lack of ambition, Comforted by a friend’s success; There is something endearing about a fear of inadequacy. The desire to be more, to want more, to do more, Paraded as an addiction. We rather lay our head at the feet of faith, than to dig
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For some, the lips only speak what the tongue allows. The eyes say more— but I trust only the walk. How deliberate are your steps, that when you move, I believe you’ve left? We paint with frivolous words. But our actions— they’re the only things we ever commit to, no matter the condition. And our
