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Feb 2018
We make our judgements through ***** windows. We make our promises behind the suns back. We break eachothers hearts and use the pieces to make tree branches reach for the sky. We don't just fall apart, we wreck ourselves to make art in hopes that someone will like our pictures eventually. I don't know about you, but I don't think I want to live like this anymore.
Written by
QuietGlass  20/F
(20/F)   
148
   poetryofdhiman
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