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A mind full of patterns In every which way. Crawling, Scrawling, And cycling On my walls. Waves of colors burst And I forget myself. Fly into my spiritual dimension And ascend. Then it ends. And I feel some clarity And comfort Wash over me.
0
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC
Ego death
A mind full of patterns In every which way. Crawling, Scrawling, And cycling On my walls. Waves of colors burst And I forget myself. Fly into my spiritual dimension And ascend. Then it ends. And I feel some clarity And comfort Wash over me.
alexwritingpoetry
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24/M/Los Angeles, CA
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC
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