unbackwardzed:
.these words are forced to fit my mood
.im so sick of these mirrors
.meticulously isolated yet always surrounded
.i have nothing to say that wont get me into trouble
.your frost is a punch to the gut
.these days are covered in thorns
.my tears fall short of escaping my eyes
.but we try
.and we fail
.so we try some more
.and together we shall see what time is made of
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