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Tumbling toward the station glossy eyed and weak hands murmur a cold hum as they redden self piteous and cynical bare by no fault but my own. A shimmer and I pause magpie glassy eyes small blades of glistening grass I stop the music and return to hear the frost crunch as I pick up and I revel in the sound to try to convince myself to stay alive.
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Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 4:55 AM UTC
Winter on a Wednesday
Tumbling toward the station glossy eyed and weak hands murmur a cold hum as they redden self piteous and cynical bare by no fault but my own. A shimmer and I pause magpie glassy eyes small blades of glistening grass I stop the music and return to hear the frost crunch as I pick up and I revel in the sound to try to convince myself to stay alive.
Oxymoron
Written by
19/F/Ireland
Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 4:55 AM UTC
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