Where?
February 13, 2026•40 words
I am rarely where I stand.
Maybe it's the writer in me.
I am an ocean away, from the shores where I can be found.
Dreaming upon horizons yet sunset.
You need not find me, for I am not lost.
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Not one tombstone
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We suffer many deaths before we are ever put in the ground.
None easier than the last.
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