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Dec 2018
Clawing against the walls of my skull are the words I want you to hear,
begging and pleading to leap off of my tongue and find comfort in closure,
but the words are tied down by fear:

loss and isolation.

Making sure I dwell in a purgatory of a perfect medium between us being fine and a possibility.
Loser
Written by
Loser  23/M/My room
(23/M/My room)   
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