12:38 am, xclandestine
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c / e: young luggage: the fear of revealing self

peachdrug:

I rained and rattled the roof but no one will let me in.
Come decorated in rusted ornaments, vacated from the clothes
and I will not let myself in. I’ve been wearing but it fit less
like a paper doll and more like wearing myself thin. What
words can sell, I cannot sell it. What voices can pray…


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