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Sep 2014
glass spits stupidity in my face
until my identity dissociates
old habits rendezvous with my senses
dancing with my lost soul
casting fainting spells

the bathroom floor is cold
on my cheek
my body and memory
feel weak
black clouds
all i see
until all i know
is not me.
Patience
Written by
Patience
5.8k
     Kalliope, s and unknown
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