Monday, November 3, 2025

We Used to Dance

 





The veil is a cold numbing, 

  Detached of Despondence 


  Music can barely touch my soul 

    and to dance as freely, would mean 


Eyes staring upon me, judgement felt is looks 

  Of disapproval, Disgust, and fear. 


  To be free here, 

A resurrected crucifixion 


An apathy placed carefully in each soul, 

  So as not to feel 


      Too much. 


So as to isolate the one who does; 


The one who carries the medicine. 







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