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May 2013
Strange revelations crawl all over my body like worms out of the mud after fresh rain.
But who are you to rain on my parade,
Killing my delusions?
You shatter my illusion, breaking my glass house that you can see right through.
It offers little protection,
But then few houses do.
Don't leave me alone with my thoughts.
I'll think myself into a grave filled with cold, damp, and rot.
Antony Padilla
Written by
Antony Padilla
717
   nyx
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