the cure
you spend the day in suspension
hanging upside down in dark cave
high frequency white noise
keeping you breathing freely
your thoughts increasingly lucid
bandages wrap your beating heart
covering unresolved feelings
wounded by your own compassion
for someone in your distant past
when it’s time to let yourself go
breaking free from the ceiling
empathy is allowed to sink in
reconnecting with a virtual bond
able to absorb your true identity
december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
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