i’m not always this poetic. i don’t always talk so slick. i’m not as eloquent, as articulate out there as i am in here between these margins. but between these borders i feel boundless. more loose, and more loving. when i’m with friends i’m more obnoxious, impulsive, and erratic. i never say the right thing. distracted from the abstract. but here all that noise becomes placid, and feelings flow into form. it may feel like a lie to those that look inside, but in reality i’m in reality and this little hidden place is the last place that i hide.
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