Those

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Those that hide their sadness. Those that pretend they’ve never broken down and conceded defeat. They could be so beautiful, and yet they fade from view without fanfare. They could change the lives of so many in need of help, and yet they would rather turn their backs and pretend they were born without defects. Children who pull the wings off butterflies. Adults more concerned with the humdrum than the wonders of a sunset. They see everything and nothing. They feel only what they want to feel. As we struggle to sleep, we breathe in different realities; we tumble into bubbles of being that only exist when the world isn’t looking. You could hold onto ghosts, or you could dance with angels. You could kiss the dust, or you could bear your soul in the hope that someone who knows how it feels will show you there’s hope to be found in those darkened hours when time ticks away yet somehow stands still. Those shapes you see that look just like you; that speak the same and mirror your actions- avoid them like the plague. Those that tell you to grow up- to become one with society- run from them until the ground beneath your feet becomes the sea and you’re swimming with the dolphins that circle icebergs and sleeping whales while leaping into the air beneath dazzling moonlight and a trillion suns that know what you are inside. Leave those you once resembled. Let them go; let them be. Slip quietly from their clutches and fly into the sky and deep into the heart of the night. As the echoes of all you’ve known call to you from below, soar until your body becomes no more and your soul is free like the songbird you once knew so well before you did your best to keep it chained and hidden from view.

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