Obsessed with fantasy

I just stood there behind a little plastic wall held by my two weak hands and all of a sudden I remembered something

Realizing what it was, I started allowing the dimmest sides of me to close in slowly, just soaking in those memories earliest memories of what I had created

A broken line between what has been inaccidentally created by my own mind frame and what my memories had stemmed from and rooted into

Only this time around, I can prevent it.. But in the moment it felt strange as though I could sense it before it became something

I don’t know what’s more depressing, knowing and knowing how to actually fix it or being oblivious to it and finding out too late

I don’t see them yet in people everywhere, hear them behind voices and feel their breath amongst my own heavy breathing

But I can slowly sense it creeping up on my like a spiders broken legs, detattched but finding their way back


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