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May 2014
the pillow beneath my cheek
that swallows the moisture
of all of my tears
the river that became a creek
absorbing all my rejoice
the crux of my fears
the gently weeping song
that litters my heart with glass
cutting my nights
the place where I belong
and at the last
all your wrongs
become right
Helen
Written by
Helen  nowhere special
(nowhere special)   
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