Colour closer toward extending lines

On days I'm tired of running 

I rest under the trees my great great grand father had planted 

The branches have grown strong and wide

Casting a huge shadow of comfort 

When restlessness sets in 

my body is numb 

But my ears are filled with a constant buzz 

I run after the buzz and take a leap

Dressing myself in nomadic clothes 

Shedding eccentricities and

previous identities like aged skin 

If I ever become whole  

I will brood over the lightness with which this neck carries 
this heavy head 

Or measure the negative spaces between the arch of my back and the 
softest sheets 

Because the only way to feel complete is to fill voids 

And to constantly colour closer and closer toward extending lines

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