how can i even think of it?
It is not an easy thing to do.
running away.forgetting the past.
it all glides so smoothly through the fingers.
like a silken piece of evidence
a splatter of milky white across the blue ocean
like a vice around the throat of man
curling,choking,strangling.dead
roots of innocence now corrupt.
a wall of shadows passing by
the ancient bells of sorrow
indifferent pain.to any fruit.
this is..not..how..it is..
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