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Unusual Speakings
The wind speaks to me
Coming and going
Luring my life to unravel
My heart weeps and my toes freeze
The thought of you brings a flood
to my eyes
Knives stab into my chest
The day grows old
Night sneaks up on this lost soul
The cardboard box calls for me once
more
I climb in, trying to get snug
My thoughts collectively come back
to me
During the weakest hours of thee
night
Shoving you away from me. . .
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