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Sep 2015
Oh, to get my hands upon your frame,
to mold you,
to hold you,
to *******.
To watch your eyes gloss and fade,
as your identity fades into

a glazed expression of
all the gains,
all the lost hopes,
all the joy,
all your dreams,
as all your existence collapses
into a single few moments of freedom
from yourself.
RMatheson
Written by
RMatheson  Beating tired bones
(Beating tired bones)   
291
   Awesome Annie
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