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Jul 2015
Demented, bent, thoughts that don’t make sense
The firm grip that was on my
Bleeding walls
Sick from the memories of *****
Cigarette stench blasting in my room
Distorted languages of I love you
Static forming with an elegant bow
Adieu.
Monique Matheson
Written by
Monique Matheson  30/F/Arizona
(30/F/Arizona)   
351
 
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