Dying Breed

I saw this little girl yesterday at the park… I couldn’t see her face very well nor her fathers, but their voices… rang in my ear as familiar

So I sat swinging, continuing to relish in the dreams that were my reality

 

Did I know them, or was it just my eyes playing tricks on my mind, skewing my vision and making a mockery of my feelings

 

Haunted by what I thought might be, I sat there, staring, and drifting off into the silence, I could have sworn I knew them, and that the father knew me, he stared at me like he knew me

 

The person I dated, yeah, she knew them, at least the versions of the people I thought I claimed to see, they weren’t them

 

couldn’t have, wouldn’t have been, so much has changed in two years, one year, a few months, now I’m here breaking, broken, but healing with self-coping, destroying everything within me and not making sense of what’s needed

 

At least I have the ability to write, because even though I go through times where I can’t, I actually can, I just need certain songs, music, TV shows to blast in the background underlying what I really need to say

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