Contemplation brought by trepidation reminds me why toddlers crawl before walking.
These misunderstood emotions stand idle at busy intersections.
There is a comfort sought after, one once felt during a beautiful dream.
This seems unnatural, confusing.
Something is WRONG.
These aren't wandering thoughts, no. Only an engine on empty.
There is a disconnect.
Crawling from one breadcrumb to another, getting lost in between the twigs...
when do I run?
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