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Moving

Cardboard seems to be the common feeling now
beneath my hands
the sound of the packing tape
echoing in my ears
the emptiness of the house
is all I see, even behind closed lids
the stress and tension
is a taste on the tip of your tongue
the difference and mustiness of this place
burns in your nose
my mind reels with the fact
I will soon be diving into the unknown
with glimpses of things that are familiar
and then I realize at the edge of the diving board
I cant dive
so all I can do is jump
right in to the dark abyss
and hope someone, someday can bring me back
to the light of normal life





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