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Gone Awry

Yes I was too forward for sure, I whispered, I shivered, she shivers no more. And I knew better than to go out into the cold To battle the warmth with a stick and some stone Perhaps later I'll retire to my home Blue colors drawn on windowsills between the cracks The recesses open up and swallow me whole A vacant shell with no home and no soul
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Written by
jake-bentley
American
Published
Jul 8, 2013
Lines·Words
9·68
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