Sitting There

Sitting There

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, May 26, 2015
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Poetry
As I sit burned by my own reflection , tripping on the endless remote activity I dive into and pinch the edges of a constant rainfall . Holla at the free space I call my own defected reality .. Have a bond with the head case , eat a meal with a hag , and yell at the air I struggle to inhale in . Who sitting in the sun , who has this light that razes my skin . Sitting in the bitter range of motion I called life ...
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