but what am I, other
than a pile of bones and some flesh, composed
of past sorrow and debris, watered
with my tears and feasting on the small slivers of sunlight that come from time to time.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 4:01 PM UTC
but what am I, other
than a pile of bones and some flesh, composed
of past sorrow and debris, watered
with my tears and feasting on the small slivers of sunlight that come from time to time.
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