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simran
simran
we choose who we let into our weird little worlds. / / i think everyone is a great poet- some show it, some don't.
we are sad. we are happy. we can be mad. we can be insane. but we are human.
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
human
She sat there grimacing, with paintings on her arms. a plaster sitting on her face words unsaid. And a story written on the walls filled with pain and disgrace. The night changes and confides. the world ignores, turning away every eye. Loneliness screams and echoes within . This feels like a punishment for an undone sin.
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC
Grimace
Nostalgia; it’s called. Nostalgia; written on ancient story walls. Nostalgia; a happy sadness. Nostalgia; a human madness. Nostalgia; an affection for the past. Nostalgia; divine or bitter while it lasts.
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
Nostalgia