Muzzled

Too much. Too much.

TOO MUCH.

Filter,

censor,

strain.

Wear a mask,

hide your pain,

Smother your love,

pretend that you’re sane.

Why must blue

dive into red?

I want the moon

over the purple bed

of twilight.

Take me to the magic hour,

just before my insecurity

begins to devour

my sense of serenity.

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