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Feb 2019
I
am
the tip
of the iceberg.
10% there. 90% submerged
just waiting for a rogue ship to wreck.
I'm cold. Like ice. And what you can't see below the lapping of waves is more ice.
Large and impenetrable.
Our chance encounter
enough to break you
to pieces. You'll
only hurt yourself
trying to get to know me.
Your expectations left sore.
Your mind left reeling.
They must have warned you
these waters are cold
and choppy
and dark.
Irate Watcher
Written by
Irate Watcher  30/F/Denver
(30/F/Denver)   
  406
     Kat, Glassmuncher, Perry, Joseph Miller and Steven
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