What’s on my mind?

What’s on my mind? I can’t expose that side of me. It would hurt you to see the do or die of me. Like a still-life, snapshots, stop-motion in strobe lights, blinding flickers of the composure you extol are illuminated from within the chaos, but you still can’t see what hides in the folds of darkness inside my heart before the flash goes off and the shutter closes.

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