from bed, we’re there while they’re here

when did we stop watching fireflies fade during summer nights spent spinning in circles shrouded by stunned emotions holding tightly to the thoughts that we were alone in parks where patrons left hours before leaving us to wade in shallow water, splashing the day’s leftover innocence on one another’s goose bumped flesh cleansing the marks left from the quiet deaths their judgements marked while widened dreams danced off our lips sucking away every desire of a new day while we held the night tight drifting out of sight from the oglers need to be where we were meant to be tripping away from the pain deserted pathways overgrown from knowing it wasn’t the way.

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