Scope

What is this sensation
I forgot that is was there
Frozen fingers clawing me
The nostalgia I can’t bare

Onwards and upwards
I insist with persistence
It is a fork in the road
Not the end
Reminiscent

I feel better equipped
But it is still so dismissive
The second I buckle
Is the second its winning

I say ‘it’
But in truth
That must be part of the problem
Assailing myself
I reject whats not wanted

But it is inside my scope
I acknowledge and know
The projection from the inside
Is the reason for outlines of smoke

There will not be another pity filled volume
I will look at my cloud directly and often
You cannot ignore
But don’t let it consume
Balanced connection or back to the start again

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