Posted by
Christopher Spicer
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Other days, they flicker briefly,
noticed only by bots and spam,
a scam mistaken for hope.
And I breathe again.
Maybe what I do matters.
Maybe it always has.
So I’ll keep sending words into the void,
risking their silence,
trusting the echo
that somewhere, someone will stumble upon them,
and feel a little less alone.
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