Streams

Streams, that begin in my heart, are traveling through my eyes and down my face. They are falling from my chin and splotching my arms and soaking my pillow. These streams seem to keep flowing. Will they ever dry up?

Filling these streams are sadness, regret, remorse, longing…

I wish these streams can carry me away from here.

But no, here I remain, with only these streams to keep me company. I’ve somehow ostracized everyone else in my life. Here forever I will lie. Here forever, me and these steams.

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