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"The unnoticed shape in my pocket"
write about a secret you harbor, specific or not, we all have weights on your souls, empty chasams where nails have been pried out of but still wait to be repaired
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DuST72

Oceanic tremors.

The deadened weight of my soul trys to drag me to the ocean floor.

A world where I can breathe in colors that haven't been discovered.

I go under so I can get a faint glimpse of sunken treasures that have been buried in my empty hands.

The hard shelled clouds skip across the water thrown by an almighty hand wrapped in algae.

Lights above me,a party searching for the birthday boy.

Torched candles lighting up,another year growing older,as i sink deeper into the thoughts that keep me from totally going under.