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entry 1
Category: Writing and Poetry
I want to rid myself. Rid myself of this empty, unfulfilling, relentless vessel called life. I always thought I could fly, so I grew wings. The wings that violently protrude out of my back, formed from the self-inflicted naivety and the optimism that only left my heart and mind incapacitated, thrust me higher and higher. Vermilion daubs blemish the albino feathers that caress the sky, my burdenso... » Continue Reading