Concealed
All of those lines...
Way underneath
There’s no space, no air for them to be found
So, they must settle
And quiver around
Waiting for someone to let them out
A line
But not all that it seems
A line
But something that should be placed way up high
Because it’s more than just that
If it’s your reality...
A reality that you choose to make your own
And ultimately your home
Then,
It’s whatever you want it to be
Parallel lines don’t have to meet
And so these words never will end
They’ll continue on
Perhaps not on paper
But somewhere in the heart, somewhere in the soul
Stored far far away
-- one day passes --
It continued to walk on its last few strands
As she ruminated over a picture containing a thousand memories
Of what seemed like paradise only a couple of weeks ago
But what now resulted in her struggling to breathe and remain in the light
It was hard for her, and she struggled to come to terms with her current reality
She could also feel the potential drops of water flush out from the sides of her eyes like a river
But she held back
Accepting that it is what it is
-- sips a glass of wine --
Who am I?
Who is she and what can I tell her? so that her journey can continue on the line that may never end
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