Saturday, June 26


In my mind there are countless images
Vivid, defined, surreal.
I hold your hand and you smile.
If I held it tighter, you wouldn't mind.

I must be sick in the head
for seeing you when I'm not supposed to.
Images. I can only see images.
Illusions, if you must put it that way.

I am still holding on.
I am still here.
I am still giving.
But I need to let go.

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