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Jun 2013
There's something about the air in here.
Heavy, pulls us down.
It smells like her depression,
my anxiety attacks.
Endless fights and un-won struggles.

I've been waking up,
covered in sweat,
not remembering my dream.
Except for those eyes,
they come back.
It's like they watch me in this house,
through hers.
Written by
Sinai
543
 
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