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Mar 2013
My mouth tastes sick and sour
Like fear and *****
The nausea comes and goes in waves
I am afraid the night will pass,
But no relief will come
I am the seashore,
Worn down by endless misery
And I would sooner be a desert:
Dry and empty
Than filled with such pain and sorrow
Not for one minute more
Written by
Hudson Everett
687
 
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