| tiny_worlds | ||
| (_) |
brilliant strokes of color long to fill the page but my tongue is unsure my head filled with rage heart weeping for forgiveness at the symbol I’ve become like I’m trapped in some airless chamber I must call home but my life has been so untouched by that sad thing called ‟living,” and yet I have still been clutched with love and if I could only sing my voice would color tiny worlds and hopefully change them for good make monsters flee and happiness exchanged |
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