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Saturday, June 25, 2022

I’m alone, uncertain, pull close the curtain, lay next to my dream, nothing as it may seem, scream intensely, drown out my doubt with songs, wrongs made by me and wrongs done to me, see my scars buried deep, reap this harvest, your mouth against me, feed upon my flesh, rest your head upon the space above my cock, you are imagined but you feel so real.

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Categories: Fiction poetry short story writing

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jasonwhitaker29171

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