​Searching,


through the detritus of yesterday,



finding only fragments of indifferent time.






Searching,


through trashed emotions,



finding only moments hastily cast aside.






Searching,


through blurry scribbles,



finding only slivers of defeated thought.






Searching,


through layers of my moulted skin,



finding only the stillness of a once beating heart.






Searching,


through reflections in shattered mirrors,



finding only snippets of long forgotten faces.






Searching,


through blank canvasses,



finding only echoes of faint life.






Searching.

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