Residual

Refined by the weight of time
Like a diamond but far less tempting
The fear of being alone
Scraping against my scalp
If hell exists it’s inside each of us
We give our devils names but no faces
Have I learned nothing yet
The salt in the wound is the acceptance
Of my place, of my meaninglessness
But is it also my salvation
To live a small small life
Nihilistic but favorable
It all means nothing and that’s okay
But everywhere leads to somewhere
My memories, most valuable possessions
Heartbreak nights, daze, and days of laughter
Feeling nostalgia like it’s a medical condition
Organize my conscience and let it read like a good book
Curling pages like toes underneath the covers
Hide me away in yours
Have I done enough to have some staying power
I left
But you were already gone
For all the good it’s done
I’m still searching for meaning that doesn’t exist
Chasing undefined dreams
The further I reach out
The longer I keep falling
It gets under my skin
Trying to get over my drop in the bucket
Ripples that lose their momentum
Leveling out, averaging down
Gone and eventually forgotten

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