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deadboycreek
Poems
Jul 2020
07.06.20
all paths lead to nowhere,
nowhere to hide,
nothing but the sprawling,
unnerving reality of time
it slips, silently, through the fingers
all moments, having passed,
unify and become one:
"the past"
12:50 p.m.
Written by
deadboycreek
22/Non-binary/mérida, yucatán
(22/Non-binary/mérida, yucatán)
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