It’s in the quiet spaces
Between words that he remembers
What he was and how it all
Led to this moment, whether
He wanted it to or not,
Without any semblance of order
Save for every single experience,
Every instance of gushing pain,
Pulsating regret, momentary joy,
And the evolving realization
That he was never whom they
Said he was, or whom he had
Convinced himself to be.
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