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untitled01

simpler hours- parcel of delicate childhood recollections. flaking by the sweet, solemn whispers of remeberance. a longing seed who seeped from my juvenile soul and drug itself directly below its feet- feeding into the loose dirt of our starving earth. giving animation to the trees that mutate into robust vines- who bergeron and persistently haunt the hollows of my head- thriving ceaselessly. serenity cowards and curls back up into itself.
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Written by
digitalcherub
17 / F / unlocatable
Published
Aug 18, 2018
Lines·Words
7·70
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