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Sometimes I wonder if my draw to abandoned buildings Is in some way connected To the fact that I know what it feels like to be Left behind Forgotten To fend for oneself. And maybe Just maybe For those few minutes or hours Those buildings can breathe in The presence of someone New Appreciative Careful Not to damage the integrity any further, but rather Marvel at the beauty that remains Despite countless years of Neglect Weathering storms and Inconsiderate people that think it's Perfectly acceptable To come in Unannounced Unwelcome and Unkindly Claiming any small bit of beauty that is left. Marking their territory with deep cuts of Black Blue Purple and Red Paint that serves as Bruises and Scars on something that was once held in such High regard Respect and Admiration. Maybe they can sense that my presence comes Not from a place that wants to Gawk at the ruins Stare at the destruction or Judge how it came to look so Tattered and torn. Ma

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30-60 Minutes.

Cube Farm.





(Untitled) 1

My Turn.

Battle Wounds.