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Sep 2013
I am wounded. Seared with scars of broken dreams, scattered across my own galaxy and I fear they will continue to stomp into the dust, unable to be renewed. And I am fearful of my future, so grave and hard to grasp. What am I even working so **** hard for? And why? Will it even come to pass? And my heart is weary and head is full of thoughts and I wish I had some small time to stop. Just to really grasp whats going on and how to stop the constant noise. And let my thoughts settle like the bottom of my ocean. Just to work my way through things, to get to know them and understand and to stop the constant madness. I cannot handle on my own. But still it goes on like the waves of an ocean, with a very hide tide.
Lover of Words
Written by
Lover of Words
478
     Rachael Stainthorpe and Timothy
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