My old friends, my old life , I miss it .
My past-self’s innocence, my guardian elf’s blanket .
My strong feet, my tireless ship, my irresponsible heat and bleak
..dreams, warm dreams, big dreams , small dreams .
And when I fall, sick of all these ticking clocks,
this pain grows into me and speaks with both our voices ,
“Dear god. Fuck you for not existing”
My old friends, my old life . Oh dog, (you little soul), I miss it all.
And now,
just to come closer to my past,
I’m getting old too.
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