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Jan 2013
Heart stopping rot,
down for the count,
rent of emotion,
alone and frozen,
heavy breaths,
left connections,
lost conceptions,
frosted facets of fogged mirrors,
I only spoke,
I couldn't hear her.

I don't deserve this you say,
I don't deserve anything I say,
****** up and worried about frivolous activities,
I ignore you even when you sit with me.
Written by
Nicholas Mitchell Truslow  United States
(United States)   
780
   Pen Lux and ---
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