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Friday, July 1, 2011


A perfect day leaves me dissatisfied. Through that open window loneliness creeps like a dirty cat, muddy pawprints marking my soul. The stains widen, darken, collect and form... what? Depression? Fear? A feeling so familiar it is welcomed despite its weights, its ugliness, the sadness, and hate it brings. Anger for loving it, needing the pain it causes, hate for the anger I have.

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