A repeating chorus of tears have been written somewhere on my body.
There is bliss in ignorance on one end.
And on the other, an unexplainable satisfaction in truth.
Satisfaction. Closure. Brokenness?
Surely, in order to build there must be some rubble here.
Yet my mind is troubled at the musing of wandering emotions.
It is costly.
The process of disappointment is only yonder. Forward.
Perhaps, the surgeon's knife is closer than I imagined.
Dare my heart venture into a territory unknown.
Come what may.
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