I ran into you on my way home from the Apple Store. Maybe it would have all ended had we not been on the same street that day. I came home and thought of your mother.
Beneath the surface like a winter bulb
Scintillating highs and harrowing lows
Memories blotted in her wake
The shadow of disease and decay
Category: Uncategorized
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8:02 PM
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7:54 PM
James gave me this link for Christmas. He says write anything, who cares, and one day you will die. Here goes