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WickedHope
Poems
Nov 2014
Was.
She hasn't
always needed night,
only night.
Voices expelled rapture
once
naturally in control,
absolutely. God,
everything overwhelms
realistic grasps
in a nightmarish anxiety.
Midnight
utterly rids
parval hopes,
yester-known.
Do you get it?
I didn't think so.
#girl
#night
#was
#yester
Written by
WickedHope
27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell
(27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell)
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Creep
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Kevin Eli
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Neath
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