I packed my emotions in a trunk and the heath grew; invisible immortality troubled my pores, leaking residue; this approach, girl behind black w/o a smile, my eyes objected; for the strain was a thrusting wave – damaging visage; salty drops, God permissed to no invitation to sorrow; In too deep, it’s windex’d efforts of a plucky demeanor; No eyes, I guessed…The buildable pressure exploding around my heart was soon placed in push cart and dictated by a breathing gavel and escorted by situation – me.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
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