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this is a story/collection about growing, changing, and the fear/mourning associated with it. the speaker shifts to the boy in "in which the boy remai..
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read "dont talk to the child inside" first. this is the childs perspective and conclusion.
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i know who i speak toabout my regrets, my insights.and he listens,still holding,that cursed knife.we've done this before.time,..
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i think,when the bridges collapse.succumbing to the pressure,will be a beautiful thing.to be retaken,by the pit beneath.a selfish temptation,might jus..
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it starts with a boy,longing for the tide.asking if it was just a ploy,was it worth his pride? he stares solemnly, at the moon.waves whisper their des..
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i know you're here,somewhere.maybe sound asleep,did we ever dream? and i'm sorry,for everything you've seen.you're just as scared,as when we were thir..
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i really dislike this one, but its finished enough to post.
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theres always a price
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my organs cover the floor.rot, rot, and more rot.for the latest downpour,i made this cardboard grave myself.from leftover pizza boxes,so i can wallow ..
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one day ill understand, or i wont. its beautiful in its own right.
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