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I cry myself to sleep because of the words that they said...
School grades and ugliness, and the voice inside my head...
Oh, I'm still breathing, but suffocating in my breath...
What's the point of living, if I'm already dead?
YOU ARE READING
Nephophilia
Poetry'Nephophilia' is the love for clouds. Clouds may seem ordinary for some people, but they aren't ordinary at all for me, and it is obvious for most of my poems have mentions of clouds in them.
