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time @ waiting
While what is [or isn’t] digs it’s nails into my sides like slivers i’ll inevitably choke on perhaps more here than there more like standing up like that look you look when you’re looking out or [similar to] splinters of your smile like shrapnel, i’ll wait with what i wouldn’t want tied tight to what i would summer will take us there there in that place where we were with what was [or wasn’t] hanging like a halo or a hangover over my head
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