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I would hope that no one would read my mind or hold on to a grudge But what is left not in final meaning but in my explanation of my open wounds My heart floats on ice in hills Basking on spreadsheets And analysis I am not wanted Knowing that Something Ominous Hangs above me, and confides in me I am unattached Just like death Or when autumn Dies quickly Or your soul stays around Without warning my hands held to open skies I turn and walk away soaked in my own memory
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Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
In Colorless Skies
I would hope that no one would read my mind or hold on to a grudge But what is left not in final meaning but in my explanation of my open wounds My heart floats on ice in hills Basking on spreadsheets And analysis I am not wanted Knowing that Something Ominous Hangs above me, and confides in me I am unattached Just like death Or when autumn Dies quickly Or your soul stays around Without warning my hands held to open skies I turn and walk away soaked in my own memory
peter-piccolomini
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Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
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