French cut high rise
It's all come together

A long time coming
Theres not much to explain

High profile charades
And snow tipped arms

Lost in the opaqueness
Joined by unsurfaced anguish

Where feeding off another's despondent memories is acceptable
Even helpful

For when do we really feel connected?
When can we just exist in some sort of comradery without feeling less or more?


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"I love humanity, but I hate people"-Edna St. Vincent Millay