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12.15.15 / 9:08 pm
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there are a hundred names and faces that i've forgotten,
a passing thought of what has never been,
so often given up like day-old coffee.the dream appears again like fading memory,
sleepwalking through these empty houses,
never quite trapped, never quite free. it's always a challenge not to pull away
from all the fragile things i've built.
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�
�
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