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Nov 2018 · 263
Thoughts
Feathers stream down my cheek
Coming forth like red rover
I feel the cessation, when sadness takes over
I mourn the end of each day
Patiently waiting for my last
And suddenly life seems pointless now, looking at the past
The end
I don’t think you understand
It feels too natural, me and death go hand in hand
Ask me something please
Your tongue has been bitten off by my hearty smile
It’s hard to talk about, acting angst is not my style
I love you, help me
I’ll be here until you leave
It was our future I planned, and now my death I will conceive.

— The End —