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Mar 12
My worries are small,
Yet they eat me alive,
Paralyzing my thoughts
Until guilt takes root.
A slow, relentless bloom.
I have no reason to be upset
And still I can sense,
A dark cloud in my coffee,
Eagerly waiting to burst
And ruin the mood.
Selma
Written by
Selma  somewhere in europe
(somewhere in europe)   
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