if the lonely souls could tell, if there wasn't a secret hidden beneath a shell maybe slugs wouldn't smell seeking company wherever they dwells,"my mind isn't doing well" my lonely days are hell seeking potions or spells to stop my thoughts from making my head swell.the shadows won't tell, quiet walls don't seem to beg high in my own head pulling a leg,if love hadn't already shed the many tears soaked within my bed I wouldn't have to pretend that my days aren't blue they're always red from having lonely thoughts in Jem's..
©dust
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