Mar 2019
Carrying them to my grave.
Like a sack of boulders,
On my weak, damaged bones.
My brain filled,
Over flowing with my past.
Why oh why, can’t you leave me alone.
Like a sack of boulders,
On my weak, damaged bones.
My brain filled,
Over flowing with my past.
Why oh why, can’t you leave me alone.
(18/F/Ireland)
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