I'm making an effort to pull out the knots. This blockage clogs more than a free flow. So I have maybe three strands
The betrayal
The unclear
The thing I want to be a lie
Exhaustion and thin layers lend to grabby threads
(Significant progress in mere minutes)
Salt is falling from the skies
You don't see it, but can you feel it?
Solids pounding out a rhythm of distress.
Your distress. You can be done with it
I beg of you to be done with it!
Open hands and feet, not arms and legs.
Joy comes in the morning and even in the mourning
If you let it...please let it.
You will be healed
And the day will amplify, so you must have supply to warrant such return on investment
Keep eyes dear one
And give them back
Like a cake with much money made into sugar,
Water melts into almost anything.
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