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Sep 2015
i do not have a way with words,

everything that I say

means nothing.

I have nothing to whisper

about the trees

or the waves

or the way you talk

with your eyes

or the way i spend

nights on nights on nights

burning away my insides

becoming what I fear

I knew I'd be

but this is me,

and this is all I know how to be.
blue milk
Written by
blue milk  america
(america)   
361
 
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