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written by: Criss Tripp



Imagine you’ve lived several lives before the one you’re currently living, and remember everything.
Imagine you’ve been stabbed, and lashed in the back, by the best people, you held with value.
Imagine every life you’ve lived, just keeps repeating the process, and it never ends.
Imagine every time you live, you witness the greatest, and worst measures of every mistake.
Imagine you’ve been completely drained and broken, by everybody you held with reverence.
Imagine you’ve gone from hopeful, to cyc lically cynical, like it’s become a pun and a residual ritual.
Imagine your life has value to you, and everybody else knows you hold it that exact way.
Imagine you’re the type of person that loves what you do, and hates to be dismissed.
Imagine you’re too far gone, and engrossed with your own deficits.
Now imagine this isn’t just words, or something you read.
It’s not that simple, because it’s living dread, that spreads.
You’re gone, left and driven, by the only one thing you have left.
You’re not alarmed, because it’s already happened, and you’re just waiting, for it to happen again.

Criss Tripp

Criss Tripp

I construe my truth, to be fruitful proof of all I've accrued, from what I've lived through. Approve or rebuke, refute with a loose fuse, take it for granted, or like as you choose.
Criss Tripp

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