I feel the digging tooth and nail the reaching for what’s underneath but nothing’s there there’s nothing there but dirt decay debris. I feel the digging searching wanting more where no more could ever be: too many opinions differing for too few connection-paved intricacies. I try I try to talk I try to give chances and I take a few. I try I try to meet new people to give them doubtful benefits to see just where it leads. But my heart is hollow heavy still still trying forgetting questioning too many lingering wasn’t meant to bes. Closed off to testing nothings for size closed off to starting a collection misfitting. I’m playing for my own team I’m playing a game half-halfheartedly I’m playing on a different field: an emotionally removed plane. I’m alright here but they want more so I’m alright with closing out. I’m alright here, but that’s obscured: it’s coming off as posing. A girl who does the things girls do, but to me it seems much deeper, and no one is asking for details: assuming pointing finding that fault lies in non-reasons.  So I apologize for choosing flight over passionless fight, but I can’t help I won’t try to make an era out of a season. 

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