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doors open wide
to slam in my face
so to avoid the hurt
i run in place
i close my eyes
just in case
the illusion is only
reality laced

but how much
do i waste
in this apathy
how much time
and space
have voids now

an abyss, an empty
chasm between
of what really is and
what it only seems
to forfeit, unfulfilled,
dead, congealed dreams
and yet still the prelude, i,
a deer in the beams

-m.p. 10/04/2016