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Sep 2018
I've molded myself into something terrifying.
At night I linger, worn and lost.
Inconceivable mirages wash ashore
of past memories locked away and sent drifting down the river.
I sit in desolate stillness,
As the river rewinds flow
And the bottle returns to me
Passion Pete
Written by
Passion Pete  24/M/Earth
(24/M/Earth)   
  349
   Toothache
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