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Oct 2019
Spit.
I spit out hell speak on my ponder railing.

I shrieked out gobs of porrige hate
that would abate all of my sailing.

I clicked my teethed and thrash about,
and abandoned all my food.

I stomped a fire, flesh and all,
just so that I would feel good.
T R S
Written by
T R S  29/M
(29/M)   
114
   J J
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