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Imagine

It’s not just my life anymore. I share this body. Her purpose is to allow me to overextend myself. Like an imaginary friend… But less childish. She has a purpose. She allows me to rest in the fog. Where I feel safe and restored. No one asks for real me anyway. So here I am, becoming a recluse within my own body. She is imaginary, sure… But I am willing to share this life, anyway. And let her take on my memories. So I can rest, comfortably. So I can rest, selfishly.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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Book: Shattered Sighs