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an open mess [that's queer]
the hopeful
i was once
all black holes and sunsets
and now i'm all
this is what i need, not what i want
some days the sun rises nearer
on east side of my cloudy apartment window
i look out and i wonder
how the hell did i get here?
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demonghost
it creeps in seeping through cracked twice paint...
the hopeful
the past remains
refusal of the fittest
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Life is not susceptible perhaps to the treatments we give it when we try to tell it. ~Virginia Woolf
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