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Mar 2018
push me to the edge of my seat
sit me on the tip of my tongue
tilt till i trip to spill brims i overfilled
creaking on the verge of pent up tears
and brinks of insanity that ceased to be

i freed the fear
and felt my fleeting feet
flee to defeat
the feat of defeat

as days i see
decrease
and time on me
decrees
indefinite sleep
in peace
i for once and finally
can rest
at ease
deceased
absinthe
Written by
absinthe
156
   Julie Langlais
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