the excommunication of communication

we design these layers
and pull apart our souls
served up in moments of lost expanse

i divide time between the beginning and the end
hoping for wayward glances of time to come

we search our souls
for the meaning of every moment that passes with time
hoping for the vision of the ways to come

i am tired of the lights that burn so bright the soul rips open from momentary expanse

time never sealed it right
it never made the way home better

i hoped for a new vision
new times
new ways to heal the ending

i falter through days wondering where time leads

where does hope lay for the taking
mending and repairing
cleaning old wounds
tying us tight

the feeling still seeps through the seams
i havent completely expelled you out


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