• A feeling between rage and stale defeat washes over me. As i lay in bed dreading the days to come. Potential sudden death becomes my only comfort. The desperate yearning for meaning floods the gaping cavity with the illusion of nourishment as the nameless feeling unravels. Tears. Refuse to drain the venom from the resentful heart. As my reality caves in on my hopes of salvation, I seek the illusory solace of fantasy. My vestigial wings ache for form and substance, as I negotiate with my thanatopsic demons...


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