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Dec 2018
It's got a grip
on both my lungs
The air is getting scarce
It also feels as though I'm falling
down a flight of stairs
My stomach does
a somersault
Or maybe twenty-two
My hands are cold
I'm overwhelmed by all these brilliant hues

At times like these, I've often felt
a longing to be someone else.
Written by
mlk  F
(F)   
244
     --- and Pax
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