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Dissertation 14

Hot Cross


The silence we've found always prouder than the voice you lost.
Clawing through words dropped from lips
content with a last breath like a heretic.
Finding a dream of salvation; a hint of reality too involved for imagination.
This will be a tribute to the years we've spent building so much nothing,
a homage to our hands lost to empty sounds.
The loudest days hiding hopeless eyes;
looking for a lifeline but only breaking ties.
We are so many lifetimes away from the one we want to be.
Take your place and play the part.
Wear your make-up like a weapon.

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