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May 2019
Soft spoken and cloudy
You remind me of a dream I've been trying to forget
A dream that begs to be remembered
That pounded its iron fists on my collapsed chest
And yet you flutter and glide amid the space where flesh used to be
Gently and quietly you pass
I try not to hold it against you
But the resemblance is too striking
The sunlight beamed off of your hair
Before the rot began
Written by
Elle  F
(F)   
146
 
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