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These blocks are thick

I cannot see through

Tip o' the tongue

Far from the eye



Oh! But then begins
flourishing thoughts
like a...
             like a...
                          like a...
What I see is
imperfection
in the eyes of
Elevator.

John is sleeping.
John is kicking the ball.

Dear Papa,
why the cosmos is
the cosmos.
The reverence shines through
my hole.

The whole swimming pool was left in the ocean.

Dear Papa,
please tell me how to
have
sand.
written a few seconds ago
 May 2014 Natalie Suss
Pea
The air around me
changed; I breathe new air; I have
a brand new sweet lungs!
I just found a great online bookstore for my local area and it feels like I'm a 31 December's 5 year old girl that just experienced blowing my own birthday candles after all year attending so many 5th birthday parties. So exhilarating.
My train of thought never ends
It goes on and on
It doesn’t stop for anyone, not even me
If you step in the way
It moves around
Knowing you’re doing it just to stop the pain
The sound of screams
Your happiness over mine
It will crush me before it thinks about you
As you see its my
Train of Thought
But the whistle has finally stopped
It has pushed me down,
Run around,
But never caught me until now
It has run me over,
The Pain Train has stopped;
its annoyance of me and the pessimistic dream
you'll have to lie
in my eulogy to make me
seem worth missing
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