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Time loops beneath my ankles. 35 minutes of being ten minutes early has become a less than desirable pattern as of late From the sidewalk I saw a bird forced to walk by one wing’s drooping. Stumbling along the asphalt, feather tips cocked in broken salute and was filled with sadness of an incredible immensity. My counselor, Terran, she was like that. She had cancer living in her neck. The immensity of which was incredible When the doctors came to take it, to break her into something worth living for, part of her face left too. She took to wearing scarves, bunched high on the right side. Once she let me place my hand beneath the scarf. Her eyes fixed on the brown bookshelf by the door, I marveled at the nothingness.
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 6:15 AM UTC
I Invented You, To Hurt Myself
Time loops beneath my ankles. 35 minutes of being ten minutes early has become a less than desirable pattern as of late From the sidewalk I saw a bird forced to walk by one wing’s drooping. Stumbling along the asphalt, feather tips cocked in broken salute and was filled with sadness of an incredible immensity. My counselor, Terran, she was like that. She had cancer living in her neck. The immensity of which was incredible When the doctors came to take it, to break her into something worth living for, part of her face left too. She took to wearing scarves, bunched high on the right side. Once she let me place my hand beneath the scarf. Her eyes fixed on the brown bookshelf by the door, I marveled at the nothingness.
somethingwithhorns
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 6:15 AM UTC
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