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Apr 2020
my head is full of noise
you were my very first
trauma bond friend

our blood runs the same river
that cuts
the Everest between us now

i wanted peace in time
you wanted
picket fences and to color in the lines
you worry bout me
but i see the cuts on both your hands
the white paint on your clothes
whatever spirit in your eyes
flew somewhere else that you don't know about
i'd sew you a black wool coat
to match mine

but my life won't make much sense to you
with your hamster wheels and lists to do
and i'm scared
that we're running
out of time
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