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The sun, the sky, the trees.
They're all the same.
As is the window I look out of, and the room that I'm in.

The box of keepsakes I have on my shelf left untouched for years,
The small painting of the sunset,
The shells i keep in a jar.

My yellow makeup bag,
The clay head,
The stones in a chest that I collected that one time I went to the beach.

I walk the same streets of the same town,
The same shops,
The same places that bring me memories of who I used to be.

But they're all so hazy, melted into one.

- I wish I could remember

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~ HUMAN INTROSPECTION ~Where stories live. Discover now