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4

It's late

and my thoughts are becoming gelatin.

All the little individual grains of

this and that

are melting and mixing into one humongous beast of an idea.

 

A monster, seeping into every crevice of thought

and corner of consciousness

a grey goo filling my cranium.

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Written by
ben-rhoades
Published
Apr 28, 2013
Lines·Words
8·46
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