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The spilled ink stained All over the circular walls in the halls Of my guttered mind Reaching into the crevices Of my brain, I strain To see the colors Indistinguishable to my eyes I've become blind Nothing is clear anymore The mixture muddied and incoherent I'm drowning in the thickness of it all
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Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC
Depressive
The spilled ink stained All over the circular walls in the halls Of my guttered mind Reaching into the crevices Of my brain, I strain To see the colors Indistinguishable to my eyes I've become blind Nothing is clear anymore The mixture muddied and incoherent I'm drowning in the thickness of it all
I wrote this in 2014
foxglove
Written by
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC
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