however close we are to anyone.. there are parts of us.. that remain locked away a thin veil. like a thread.. drawing a line that speaks of separate selves. of islands. and choices.. that we make.singularly. unable to merge into another.. enough to share our naked terrors too. maybe this knowledge of "another' is the ache each feels. mistaking it for possession. and it's ugliness.. unable to 'fall' deep enough to merge in that core.. where all the fears..all the joys.. all the tears.. are felt equally.spreading wholesomely so each growth. each flowering. is our own.
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