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It's not full circle when its a spiral to the top No longer afraid to face the abyss I left behind Let it face me and see what it can learn Maybe a small fraction of my memory is devoted to shining a flattering light Or maybe it's just a quaint thing from my story That tears through pure distaste and offers something sweet I've missed my car, I've missed the conversation But now there's nothing left for me to say... Our wavelengths will always be slightly off I've learned to accept it. Keep it stored away the stuff I thought was real
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Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
Old Poem
It's not full circle when its a spiral to the top No longer afraid to face the abyss I left behind Let it face me and see what it can learn Maybe a small fraction of my memory is devoted to shining a flattering light Or maybe it's just a quaint thing from my story That tears through pure distaste and offers something sweet I've missed my car, I've missed the conversation But now there's nothing left for me to say... Our wavelengths will always be slightly off I've learned to accept it. Keep it stored away the stuff I thought was real
olivia-griffin
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Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
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