/       /       /     

29 August 2011

Wrapped in my arms

The unfolding days quiver within my head.
I've lost appetite but I've regained conscience of many other things.

As they flee, my thoughts are incapable of formulating coherently.

My jours cant be set down on paper; they'd vanish.

I've adapted new environments and remain reserved (which most are hypocritical about).

The only unanswered question remains.

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