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April 23, 2015 @ 12:37 a.m.
Once upon a December...

       Fluorescent light began to feel garish, so I turned it off and finished the dishes by candlelight. But some nights are better left to the blue-white tint of artificial light.
       Bleakness can take over as soon as there’s an empty sink in a quiet night.
       Something in me started to die; flickering with its last breath. Or perhaps it was already dead and this was me finding corpses. Finding dead magic within stone walls; zest buried between the mortar, suffocated dreams. Perhaps this was me as an adult. My bright, colorful world bleaching, stalling, stale and grey.

       And, perhaps, I should be grateful that I’m not completely gone. I find there is still enough awareness to mourn the loss.

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