Feet hit the ground, so soft so silent,
No sound is acknowledged. Your the only one alive, or so it seems, though dim yellow lights spill softly down white slopes like melting butter. Nothing matters but the world, which is the only thing that should matter. Yesterdays argument and Saturday's confrontation are far behind you. No more headaches press on your tired mind. You have lost yourself, but not entirely. You still exist, just not at the moment. Your so silent. Feet barely hit the ground. You know you'll be back, in your unknown town.
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