Little heart,
stop your racing
The organic electrics that keep you awake
are not yours to feel
Back to the younger darkness
Back to an ebb in the flow
Back to a place of little expectation
Where anticipation quelled the mutinous thoughts as they were so labeled
Preventing a possible nothing or, at worst,
guarding an emotional genocide
Inhale all rote, exhale all mediocre
And let true lovers languish
in themselves
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