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It Always Passes

I often think I'm over loneliness.

I got a new job. I live with new people. I talk to my mom.

I sit down in a chair to file my nails and the leather touches my skin and I'm sick.

Something about the leather on my skin makes my head spin and I can't hold my eyes open.

It's profound and all consuming and then it passes.

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Written by
harlow
Published
Jul 30, 2014
Lines·Words
5·67
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