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Jun 2014
These things are prone to breaking
This prose, sickened from drinking in all the things that give you shivers at night
I was never the happy secret you wished I was
And the purpose of all this was lost at sea when you wished me away.
I'll keep our memories two steps ahead of me at all times.
They say all nightmares dressed black and white come true
It was me and you who crossed our hearts and spoke in sighs.
There is no room for grammar in poetry.
Phil jones
Written by
Phil jones
317
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