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Aug 2019
Has my skull ever really been a home to you?
Or was it too cold, too surreal?

You weren't complete, neither were my masterpieces.
I couldn't kidnap enough of you.

It was more of a cage than a home,
an utopia for me nevertheless, mine alone.

Hours upon hours I've spended on you.
An addiction, art, or my fall?
I can't even remember all of you.
vinca
Written by
vinca  22/F
(22/F)   
272
   Fawn
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