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The Night Whispers

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Distant thoughts coming to the surface.

I’ve finally found that piece of mind that has been avoiding me for so long.

It’s been running so far to the back of my oldest memories.

It’s gotten a little dusty.

It’s a friendly little reminder, a ghost of who I used to be.

I used to resent her, wish her dead even.

Now I see there wasn’t anything wrong with her, only her thinking.

My mind goes in fifty different directions when I am alone.

On many accounts it’s left me a little frightened and in dismay.

Sometimes, tears are shed and art is born.

Other times, there is anger, regret, and scorn.

So beautifully chaotic is the mind.

It’s such a fragile, easily ignored part of the human soul.

It cries out to be examined by it’s owner.

Those hidden thoughts, imploring for redemption and sorting out.

Those you toss aimlessly into the depths.

They are calling to you, haunting your dreams.

There’s no need to push us aside they almost whisper to you.

You’re lying awake and trying to sleep.

Sleep is your peaceful state.

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But when the night is around the corner you start to get nervous.

You fear it’ll be another tossing and turning kind of night.

Here, alone, I am wondering and trying to let it go past me.

These little nagging thoughts of the day, memories, and lamentable grieving.

Appreciation sneaks it’s way in as I look outside and see the icy snow fall.

I am warm and yet I cannot sleep.

The mind is such a fragile thing, so powerful in it’s ignored state.

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The thoughts sneak up into your conscious alerting you to remember.

We’re still here they almost whisper.

Indeed, still here and begging and to heard.  

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