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Aug 2016
I hope my bird crashes,
And turn me into nothing—
nothing, but dust and ashes.
And force me out of my senses.
And rob me out of my existence.

I'm lost forever
to the sea;
to the waves;
to the salt;
to the blue.

Take me in,
*I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours.
Ilona Inezita
Written by
Ilona Inezita
447
 
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