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A Story by Micah
ᴜsɪɴɢ sᴛɪᴛᴄʜᴇs, you counted the time you had left.it was sort of twisted, in a way, and not twi..
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A Story by Micah
tears dissolve in black coffee, the lights blend the contours of your back into the dark colors of the wooden table. the cafe is empty, it's three a.m..
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A Story by Micah
hatred, like most emotions, is a fickle thing.---anger, rage, frustration; they all meant the same, but had different nuances to them in your head, th..
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A Story by Micah
you suffered from a loneliness that was insatiable.
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