staggering through allies as though intoxicated by the surrounding air and the intensity of the temperature. a shadow. an outline. the manisfestation of your presence in my life becoming a ghost; a piece of the past and bitter portion of self history. and i call to it, reaching outward to touch you with my fingertips and feel for a moment that you are real despite your shades of black and white and lifelessness. you turn, looking to me with eyes i'm sure no one else could see, and disappear. with out reason, with out cause, and with a look that says it's not what you want but it's all you know how to do - you disappear and i am alone in the ally. the intensely cold ally with intoxicating air.
i am with out voice; sound. i am with out color; life. i am with out breath and creativity and power and the ability to wake as a human rather than a robot with a schedule. i am a space holder, waiting for someone who would know better what to do with this potential i do not wish to utilize. a thrown away apple core; a ditch you avoid on walks and aimless drives. i am the broken swing children see no use for and the pebble that you threw with no direction. i am a rut. i am a rut. i am a rut. i am a broken record. i am going no where. i am going no where as fast as i've ever seen anyone go. i have no brakes. i have no way to stop this.
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