What never was

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)

You wake me in the morning
And vanish when my eyes are open
An apparition I could nearly touch
Familiar yet faceless figure I can trust
Like a word on the tip of my tongue
A memory that will quickly fade
We'll meet again when I rest some
While I sleep, my mind will race

Every night, dedicated and relentless
Always pursuing me

My haunting thoughts, anxiety and distress
These are my dreamsimage.png

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