Anxiety was touching the mime
I cannot hold a reality.
We were playing with each other.
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not an explanation of human sorrow, but rather a vigorously crafted embodiment of its existence. Well done, sjg
Each and every thing that you give me I will take. These things will be placed on a pyre and purified. They will be the nutrients from which a familiar monster will grow. Silently, with a tongue that longs for some one else's viscous saliva.