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Painting by Mélanie Delon

I think about the past
I think of my friends who passed away,
I think of my mother,
I think of my father.

We can’t escape from our memories
We can’t escape from the mirror,
We can’t run away from ourselves.

We all are fallen angels:
Frightened,
Begging for love
Seeking for rest
Struggling for nothing.
We have no escape.