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i woke up to vancouver rain against the bedroom windows again

the soft patter of raindrops in the morning

syncs with the slow thrum of the heart,

weaving melancholy, ebbing anxiety,

i close my eyes

and try to re-free fall back into dreams –

where there’s peace and reprieve,

where the weight is able to untangle itself

from the chest between the ribs

washing out through the window into

the slow rolling fog of the city.

if every morning is a grey prologue,

i just pray behind closed eyelids

for a very happy ending.