i pray that those in heaven will send you to me; but they're probably tired of my pleading, and they seek to punish me, for my suffering has and will always bring then joy. i'm still on the island: she never came back. i spend my days longing; looking at the horizon with an ever-decreasing hope, imagining your face coming to my rescue
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high thoughts
Poetryjust some stuff i write when high (not particularly good and not exactly well written) TW: suicide and depression stuff