constant fortune, heavy luck.
weary traveler, master of none.
there are many reasons i no longer know you.
memorizing your face does not create you to my presence.
for all that is left of my mind,
the wreckage of my history still lays
stretched across endless pavement.
brown grass filled with hopeless treasures,
they are all faded and dull now.
even the jagged shivers of glass no longer sparkle.
weather dusts it all.
and just when you think each shard is found,
a tiny speck slips out from under the rug
to bite your sole.
always waiting for the next piece to reveal itself,
like a conversation with a tired child.
fragmented and seemingly nonsensical.
half asleep, part awake.
slurred drunken mouth.
let it rest now, let it be over.
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