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Answers Locked
I’m numb.
It’s a miracle my lungs are even functioning-
The wind’s been knocked out of me.
It’s funny really,
everyone said it’d hurt.
My blissful self refused to listen.
I don’t even know what I want to happen.
Why am I crying?
What purpose does it hold?
These answers are locked away,
the key withheld until the heart is healed.
The resolution may never be revealed.
I had a skewed perspective of the end:
picturing a sense of freedom
versus pains of regret.
I can’t imagine anyone else.
My brain refuses to create the emotions.
Instead, I’m left painting the memories, over and over.
For now that’s my one possession-
my painted memories
shaded with emotions of regret and disappointment.
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