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Most days I am too gentle for the violence of living. Rust red droplets felt so vicotorious at the time-- Envisioning valor. Mount Olympus eruption at my herosim. Serenity in adrenaline. Until the fibers of my tissue struggle back together in holy matrimony, begging for salvation from a drugstore razor blade. There is no honor in waging wars against your own flesh, and I am no Athena.
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May 6, 2022
May 6, 2022 at 11:41 AM UTC
Thoughts under the Olive Tree
Most days I am too gentle for the violence of living. Rust red droplets felt so vicotorious at the time-- Envisioning valor. Mount Olympus eruption at my herosim. Serenity in adrenaline. Until the fibers of my tissue struggle back together in holy matrimony, begging for salvation from a drugstore razor blade. There is no honor in waging wars against your own flesh, and I am no Athena.
alyssa-nicole-farley
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May 6, 2022
May 6, 2022 at 11:41 AM UTC
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