brianna
walden freeman
Posts: 511
i always catch you in my coats and pockets chewing but not the fabric. and you stampede away on pillars that stamp the ground and i chase as fast as my glacier will go but it's never enough. it never could be and i'll never be taller even on top of worlds or under the microscope of my critics that are of course pulling the pens from their pockets as they speak. i'll continue storing my notes in what i wrote them with . . . my blood and each cell is a dark room made of blue bricks and dna bars.
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Oops.