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Daunted

The fear of falling. 
Falling apart from pressure. 
The pressure to get there, to be it, to find it. 
Fear of losing it in the middle of nowhere. 
Getting it right the first time. Or, the second or third and so on. 
Chances. 
How many? 
How long? 
Jars of tears, rolls of paper. 
Flicking between blurs and daydreams. 
How many? 
How long? 
When will you know? 
When will you see? 
Chances

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