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PoetryEarly Twenties

I walk these streets to remember
what i have done
and my eyes are as dark
as the curb has become
my shadow is longer than the sidewalk
and i hope you pass me by this time

this is not a love song
no love died a long long time ago
this is not a love song
at least that's what I tell myself
so I can sleep at night

and I wonder where you are
as I disappear again
I press my hand to your window
I see your silhouette
through the shade you move through life
as I stand here still

I am nothing
but a ghost in your dreams
passing through like smoke
the threads in your seams

this is not a love song
no love died years and years ago
this is not a love song
at least that's what I tell myself
so I will sleep tonight

and you wander past my window
unaware that I moved next door
now I can watch you go
unaware that I still wonder where you are

are you still listening for me?
waiting for my lungs to breathe
are you still listening to me?

I still rest here unmoving
time has stop casting its effects on me
unchanging as you move endlessly
you are wind and you are living
while I am pondering my breathing

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