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Mar 2013
The desk is plastic, cold and dark.
The keys click as I type each word.
The music playing in the background, making me feel the feelings of others.
The feelings I can no longer create on my own.
I've become numb.
In a world that teaches us to do so as such a young age.
I sit here, trying to explain what has happened to me,
So that someone,
can try to understand.
Ash
Written by
Ash  portland
(portland)   
772
   DieingEmbers and Mia
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