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Nov 2009
Could you survive if I
Press panic
Or would you fall to your knees
Like a lackluster hero?
He was made of chimney soot
And deviled eggs,
Laid to waste upon my sheets.
His rotten body, lying close to mine.
So close I could not breathe
Myself back into me.
He wore a face of a
Hallmark clown
To hide all of his thoughts beneath.
But, I remember what it is to
Walk away
From a life that tried
to pull me under currents,
But I have always been able to
Hold on to shores.
Written by
messydaisy
764
 
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