waiting for mail

time has taken the place of memories
they seem to become distorted into a more familiar pattern
the black and white
more able to be stored away deep within
and yet, the seeking of closure is lost in the fog
seeking of explanations
maybe desire for more, desire for what never was
maybe apologies
a waiting for justification.
we all are victims in this place
between illusion, delusion and coincidence
only to hear the words that never are spoken
longing, peering into the distance
dwelling on the need for conclusion
from far away, we share
insecurity and wonder
our memories lie incomplete
waiting for the mail


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