Empty lines.

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If only I had written more here,
if only I had filled these lines.
At the least, I would have said more,
felt more, left more of myself behind.
If only I had given wings to my words,
feet to my thoughts, and freedom to
the chaos in my head.
If only I had surrendered to the
basic human need of expression,
the desire to be heard,
the dream to not be forgotten.

If only these empty lines contained the summary,
the fashion of the things I'd loved,
the things I wanted, the things
I'd hoped for.
Maybe then, I'd be remembered
not for the sum of my actions,
faults, mistakes, and insincerities,
but for the hope I'd had for the future,
the love I'd had for those around me,
and the dream that, one day,
all of my heart would be free.

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