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My Inner Eupnea

He writes what he thinks, he thinks what he knows, he knows what he understands, he understands what he feels.


My Inner Eupnea

My Inner Eupnea

You ever whisper, yearning a way out,
Such fist don't even own one wristlet,
That space doesn't wield some blank wall,
You escapade your sweet escape,
A howl, insane to contemplate,
To ponder that you design your very own,

You screech with a shriek and cry out loud,
The only thing is you keep it down,
And hustling, struggling, to not get found,
A trace of terror in your ego's blood.
Such piece of meat, with frigid wit,
And type some signs, to always feel?
Unsettled thoughts, a home you crave,
You exist in an identity you never made.

-Adelram C.

© 2021 Adelram Cenk

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