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Mar 2014
The coffee stain on the table mocks me.
Your absence replays our memories
as blood drips from my quaking lips.
I raise my head to the sky and
the blood trickles down my scratchy throat
coating it with a vague, metallic comfort.
Wíštfûł Wáñdêręr
Written by
Wíštfûł Wáñdêręr  My Home Is Wherever I Go
(My Home Is Wherever I Go)   
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