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Jul 2019
The bitter melancholy
Stings the open wound on my lip,
Bit through the parched skin;
Words which I tartly exhale
Only find their way out
After catching;
Perhaps my mouth would be best
Kept closed.
Emmennarr
Written by
Emmennarr  20/M/California
(20/M/California)   
120
     david mitchell and Santita
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