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There are trains,

always heading down the same vein,

outside of your window.

Under electric blankets,

I observe a world that I never really felt part of,

as it parades past your window,

trying to impress me,

but I can only ever look,

I can never explore.

Exploring is danger,

and I’m so delicate these days,

half sleeping,

half surfing,

as you beg me to be apart from my phone,

and see the world around me for a moment.

You have made a new world,

where I could exist,

explore,

walking around,

as a collection of lights and lasers,

but it is just a fantasy.

I think that you are just a fantasy,

and I will never be safe, free or truly fulfilled,

but I want to be.

I always wanted to be.

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