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Debitage

Disposable soul Thrown down it's hole Like something I stole Once empty now full Inhabiting skull False securities lulled Fingernails lovingly pulled Holding onto this cold Doing only what's told Scold the mold for growing Or the bones for showing Men for towing their sorrows Dreaming a hundred dead tomorrows Screaming sparrows and cardinals Today I lost all my marbles
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Written by
worn-down
33 / M / American
Published
Feb 14, 2025
Lines·Words
15·60
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