When I close my eyes
I'm travelling
with backpacks hanging off of me
they aren't heavy
because they're just enough

There's possibility
and my mind is alive, just as I am
so it has it's own heart and we're scared

As I lead us
the distance between myself and life is corrupted by a blurry fog
and as I walk -
as we walk into it
the fog becomes air
in it's purest form
I breath it in
it swells inside of us
and we exhale just in time for the skies to fall again



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