In Retrospect
Hugging the pillow sometimes helps.
Clutching it tight and close to my heart.
It's better than holding a Shadow's hand
And hoping for something more.
The pillow is quiet.
I’d rather love its silence
Than be jolted out of sleep
By an Echo.
It’s tough to cross the streets, possessed.
I’ll gather the pillow to my bosom
And smother this Waking dream.
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