| there_wil_be_no_sun_until_sunday | ||
| blueberries |
it's snowing inside the forest of my freezing confusion. while white trees are crying, footprints are circling a warm path around my trembling heart. and there will be no sun until sunday. why do i listen to the sound of her silence? why do i search the area she is lost in? i fall out off the high places, but no time is wasted. everything has its moment, for even glory is visible under the ice. |
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