poem #5 - 8.16pm
- LECTURAS 5
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Concluida mar, nov 22, 2016<5 mins
The whispers that would once soothe now crawl down my spine like roaches invading wet wood.
My spine, turned to wood, splinters my heart.
And know it hurts to breathe but I do anyway because for a split second, pure air brushes against my lips, the way you once did.
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