I stepped on my past. It is a reflection of my present.
I smile, close my eyes, and look at myslef . I have transformed, maybe too much.
They hate me, they love me. They direct me, they disgrace me.
I am physically untouched. They were always there, but 'they' never existed.
Bereaved, never made it public. Content, never made it public.
Deep beyond the ocean bed, was my nerve.
He who emerged out of mystic powers, he who never coloured the dark.
I respect him.
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