The missing parts in me
Are perpetually growing
In numbers, possibly even
Becoming infinite,
Till that swallows me whole
And I become myself
Once again.
But empty this time.

The missing parts in me
Are perpetually growing
In numbers, possibly even
Becoming infinite,
Till that swallows me whole
And I become myself
Once again.
But empty this time.

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I was told not to run
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Sankar Ramzaan Choudhury