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 andÂ
the echoes of pain that it conceals.
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