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A lesson in dreaming

I was not awake.
I was a sleeping memory of my former self.
I took you in, shielded you from my darker days, pulled you close and let you shine.
But now my life is a storm in the distance, a howling thing that I do not recognize.
Beguiled by that gorgeous face, entranced by your rougher skin,
So much rougher than my own.
I tried to let you go and failed a thousand times.
Now, when I hear the thunder, I know not to be afraid.
The storm will pass as it always does. 
You will pass as you always do,
From my arms and into their's.
A lightening rod for attention.
I was not awake when I met you.
I will never sleep again.
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