Why do we blind our eyes
when vision is dear to see?
Why must we hide our cries
when we've sunken beneath our knees?

How long shall we hold our breath
below this ocean of lies?
Grasping for air at the surface
can hardly stop the tides.

The waves numbing, rippling
through my body, whole -
Crashing down overhead, my skin
washing out my Soul.

Why should I feel ashamed
that the storm has got to me?
Thrashing down, grinning between
teeth - that's the nature of the Beast.

face, tired, and rylie image
"Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you."
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We look at the same moon, but live in different worlds.