A/N: I would eventually love to create a small collection of my poetry. Thus, I have been working more on it lately to work out a collection I might eventually release in digital form, or find a printer to release some copies of it. Hopefully, along-side Inktober, I can do Literary Inktober again, but with more vigor than last year!

“I don’t gamble anymore,” they say,
Like the beginning to something.
An entrance, perhaps,
An invitation, certainly,
to the inner scorings of their heart–
hard to hear
in the silence–
but alive, and beating.
Desperate, they offer their longings
to a stranger,
a ghost they hope
to not meet again.

Is this, then, how the world works?
In glimmers, glimpses,
like a catching of sun rays
in a broken space
not fully formed
but trying,
to bring light
to a dim room,
dusty and worn-down.

That we were all strangers, then.
Full, too, of beginnings.

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