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#fr
Le temps d'hiver s'empile au pied de ma porte. Les semaines passent, sans que j'y fasse face. À l'enneigement, l'isolement, la froideur le blanc le rien la peur de toute foqué. Puisque ce n'est jamais simple, de vivre ta vie à ta vitesse.
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Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 12:00 AM UTC
La froideur de janvier
take me save me and you'll never lose me rot me away until there is nothing hold me until there are only bones in your arms do something for me i'm so tired of doing things for you
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Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 9:39 PM UTC
to the bone
Cascade of flowing vines Mushrooms pushing through soft logs The movement half glimpsed, From the corner of your eyes Cicadas buzz and hum softly then loudly Lichen grows on damp rocks They say that moss only grows On the left sides of trees - or was it the right? Pillow soft and dew beaded Nature's cushion Nature's stage for a round fairy ring Secluded den A centaur moves beneath the trees, Dappled skin glowing In yellow green light Dainty steps And the growing of things
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Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 2:42 AM UTC
The Growing Of Things
Love is not constant It is always born again It does not change it evolves Bits encoded with failure and pain Transfer to make for stronger foundation Love does not die It is killed You can love someone who hates you But you can't love someone you hate For hate is the absence of love Absence caused by death Death caused, by absence In this case. -Luca Ivaldi
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 6:13 PM UTC
Typo I