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My Someone

I have no one,
No goal to acheive
No aspirations to live up to
No one to dream about.

I feel,
No pull
No need
No desire.

At first it was freedom,
Fresh
Crisp
Exotic, yet familiar.

Now it seems a vice,
Cold
Hard
Gripping.

No true direction for me,
I dither
I hover
I float.

How can I dream, without a subject of my own?
How is it so that I yearn, for one who does not exist?
A fantasy?
Or more?

Perhaps my heart knows,
knows already what my mind is yet to think
knows already what my eyes are yet to see
knows already, my Someone.

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