For what am I bearing this weight of emptiness shouldering it, dragged into voids filled with the mirage of your presence? Am I seeking, or merely seeing? I ponder whether I truly need this. Yet what stops me from leaving it behind the thing that aches my heart? Am I holding on too tightly, leaving my hands bruised, or does my soul need me to hold its other half embedded in someone?
Do you call it being forgotten or lost, if I can still find your memories in your absence? Only your shadows could know the light you gave me, a radiant joy my eyes had never seen. Sometimes I wonder if absence is not the opposite of presence, but its Whispers echoing across silence, reminding me of what once was, or what could have been.
What should be written in the skies and stars for our journey together, trailing a path across endless oceans and horizons, to become a never-ending story? And yet, desire does not rely on reality; it leaves me blank, caught between what I dream and what I touch.
The thing I own but never had. Does it need a tag to call what it is?
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