Time and distance create a space within every mind. Searching for the right stories to string together, I find that I'm just looking for the right amount of distance. A pedestal is too high to reconcile my fear of heights, even if I can touch the ground. I fear being held up. Too high to understand that every mask has it's flaws. The mirror reveals the time I've taken to mark my paint of lies across the chasms of flaws.
The S on my chest? That's a broken dream of heaped responsibility. Sold a half used promise with no intentions upon keeping, I swept up the pieces to one nice little pile of glass bottom tears. Palm impressed pressure behind my eyes holds a dam of tears that can never break. All of these balances pieces, strings of other lives that I hold responsible for make it impossible to break.
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