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somberbitch
Poems
Dec 2017
Untitled
The tide is low whilst the sun takes its routine leave.
Crisp air surrounds what once was so warm,
deceitfully sheltering away my everything.
The countdown begins,
as i await for the worst of it to be over.
Patience is my comfort, for anything else would elongate the absence.
Written by
somberbitch
25/F/Michigan
(25/F/Michigan)
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Christopher Victor Russon
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