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Jun 2016
I've misplaced all my torn up jeans
knees no longer grazed.
I couldn't find another dream
to save me from my days.

I hunger for the summer air
the coldest winter breeze.
I wonder if my neighbors cared
now strangers in the sea.

These open wounds were left to heal
Now scars what use to be.
I find myself thinking of you
when darkness tends to breathe.
Adam Dean
Written by
Adam Dean
252
 
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