void

    Boring Bird
    @Boring-Bird
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    0 Likes | 3 Views | Nov 13, 2024

    mind rushes in hours of quite,

    seive-less, the thoughts spills,

    fumbling with weight of imagery that cling like leech,

    each pixel a memory, a small fragment of larger frame.

    night stretching, a large canva of neuron buzz,

    weary body, heavy under the deluge of data,

    searches for comprehension in unknown places.

    like ghost traumas whispers

    a reminder of very nature of existence.

    to escape the tunnel cave's we must confront

    the distance amidst and 

    the echoes of pain that it conceals.