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pocket lint
10:32 pm / 19.08.03

legs all over floors
covered in shardes of glass
and spinning minds
colide with the idea
of
faith

faith in you
faith in me
and all the world still doubts
still spinning.

we litter our thoughts with
ideas
of love and regularity
splitting cells and pasting them back
together as
another fragment
decends to the floor
still filled with
scattered limbs

reaching
reaching
reaching still
we fight until we cant feel our
fingertips
and until our pocketts fill
overflowing with lint
the remnants of the past
the remains of a feeling lost
and compacted again
formed into
the same thought
at the same moment

reaching for one
splinter
of the faith we cant hold on to
anymore.
faith in you
faith in me
faith in green
and faith in blue

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