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-Sean Paul Richards

It is the now that stands between us
our souls caught within the fabric of time
unable to hold on to everything we’ve ever known to be true.

This is me at my most unpretentious.
a wanderer.
a floating skull.
a mind at work without delay,
a body moving with imminent decay.

Do I choose to fight
or fight to choose?

Where do I draw the line between insanity
and creative energy?

The sky meets me each night
and I greet the moon.

a piece of me engrained
in the tiny breaks above me.