I am an objective, a dollar sign, another check on a to-do list. I am cog in the wheel, worn down flesh, the grinding halt after the rust of ill-maintenance. Love is falling from me. I ache, full of pain and dust. The mirror of discontent haunts me. What has sparked, was alive and joyful- is encumbered by spite, rage and jealousy. What can save me now is beyond my choosing.
Every night my teeth are falling out in Grey skies
- May 4, 2014, 5 a.m.
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- Public
Last updated June 18, 2014
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