How weak has my heart become that the littlest of separation stinges like a mellow melancholy
Holding onto every sensation of living till it's very last feeling
Wishing to rewind every memory as if I had already earned paradise
Such a spoiled child have I become that I feel I'm too special to suffer, me alone.
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Pensée Of Anemones
PoetryA collection of Poetry I hide from my outside world and tell you unjudging strangers
