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Aug 2014
The plastic that forms my skins has began to shatter,
pieces have fallen over a field somewhere
My hands shake with anxiety, for they want to reach over into
to the past. Sweat drips from head to toe, yet not from the
scorching heat.
The wind that doesn't exist takes my
breath away.
Shanijua
Written by
Shanijua  24/F/Brookhaven
(24/F/Brookhaven)   
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