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May 2017
White, cold, wet, sharp
It stings, nips
It buries,
Buries you in its
Heavy blanket
Let it, do not fight
This cold coffin
Could be home
Let the sharp breaths
Stab your lungs
Allow the wetness to
Wash you away
Become the cold, the ice
Disappear in the white-
Be at peace.
Madeline Killeen
Written by
Madeline Killeen  25/F/Massachusetts
(25/F/Massachusetts)   
402
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