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Feb 2011
Just as thoughts can eject the mind
And propel the mouth.
That takes the feelings
out of your heart
Where the roads come to a T
Your sure to meet.
Your fate.
That drops its life at your feet
And you hearts blisters
Will turn to scars
And you'll walk away
From the steamy room.
With the least of the knowings.
Because you are a fool.
Heads hate the hearts
Every box breaks your heart.
Even more.
Shattering.
Until the scars hurt much worse than the blisters.
Portland Grace
Written by
Portland Grace  23/F
(23/F)   
522
 
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