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Nov 2013
Inside the mind
Into the stink
Vaporize brink
**** the line
There is none
When all is
Blur
Scratch the scab
It is no longer mine
Yet, still, I can hear IT
IT, the past
I am a memory
And memories are all I have
I can still experience the music
The dialogue
The people
The surreal, limbotic texture of my mind
I think I used limbotic in the right way but I'm not sure.  I was thinking of Limbo.
Gabriel Peter Green
Written by
Gabriel Peter Green
448
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