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Jan 2015
Faded trees
and foggy hills
of misty blue
and morning pills

and pastel soap
in a broken bowl
my splattered mirror
who eats my soul

an empty fridge
a broken lamp
moldy, mildew,
Northwestern damp

wrists against
my seam-ripped sleeve
this is what it's
like to grieve.
Written by
Sarah  F/Oregon
(F/Oregon)   
342
   JWolfeB and Carrie Crusoe
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