Cold therapy
I don't know
maybe some things we both lack,
sirens squealing
shadows front and behind the back,
lights paint the distance
we never thought they'd show us anything,
yet here we are cold
removed from all the frigid symphonies,
fist bump greetings
now reduced to an illiterate landscape,
peace of mind slow
as the world chokes on worry and vapes,
cold mute therapy
that's all I asked and all I was worth to you,
a terrible propensity
we became what the hope had failed to know,
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