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The echoes of those lies...

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The stories that I told myself to ease the lonely ache now haunt my waking moments, the promises they break. •The phantom comfort, woven in the night, Now claws at dawn, and steals away the light. •I built a fortress, from illusions spun, But shadows creep, and battles are begun. •Each whispered 'maybe,' each imagined grace, Returns a specter, in this empty space. •The echoes of those lies, a constant, chilling sound, Where solace once resided, now only wounds are found.   •The painted smiles, the words I longed to hear, Now twist and mock me, fueled by rising fear. •My heart, a stage where fantasies once played, Now holds a theater, where truths are re-betrayed. •The warmth I sought, within my crafted dream,  Has turned to frost, a cold and bitter gleam.

You can see how precious it is...

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When you get older, you value things differently. You can see how precious it is to have peace of mind, to sleep with your heart feeling at ease. You can see the true price of everything and everyone in your life. Time slows down and you can savor moments much better. Because the older you get, the more you understand. How everything is temporary. How everything is just passing. Even yourself. And there's nothing for you to do. Except to enjoy the present. And pass in this life in peace. -Metanoia