Messy poet, poetic mess. Welcome.
Sleeplike there are no bills to pay and games to play and awful words still left to say Sleeplike you’re not scared of tomorrow,shielded from the misted sorrow,isolated time to borrowdreading as I do the morrow. Sleepwith your hair backin my laptracing tiny ovalson your skin to relax holding your handdeep breaths think of sandand […]
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