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June 23rd, 2011 in "Waiting for my Petrichor"

  • Jan. 31, 2014, 8:26 p.m.
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  • Public

Dilapidated, endless, falling. Measurements that do not quite add up. A shadow engulfing the restrictions, seems to whisper in my ear. I follow more closely, listening with all five senses.

A sneeze, a laugh, a tear created in instants swallowing the moment. I tiptoe towards the unknown and the darkness is still there.

I scrape my nails across the jagged walls of humanity and I'm still wallowing in my own self-pity.


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