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Jul 2015
we can talk until
the moon recedes
and the grass
grows back from
winter

i know you hate
the way it looks
when you smile
and somehow
it's caused your
sun to
splinter

the terror of
the thought of
not being enough
hugging your chest
baby, you're
too tough

take a breath
and let the
bad thoughts
settle
and
simmer
if you think this poem is about you then it probably is
ashe williams
Written by
ashe williams  nashville
(nashville)   
367
 
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