rustles

i grew to become a character of that who aged within

of youth that is and just

enveloped in thoughts and ideas

perhaps, merely words

only words,

arranged in fragmented oppositions

with varying circumstances

on a motion on repeat, hence once more

of an emotion that seems to relentlessly exist

or rather, the lack of

creeping underneath and in-between,

thought to be moulded,

but cracked were the alleys

forming a toothy smile

mistake me not for these words of fiction

but do wish for this piece

to be fiction

under each and every tick and flip

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