Thoughts of Ani: Through frolic and in rage

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There is no poulticing the wound. The echoes ricochet off my hardened skin. The words proliferate vividly over and over and over again. I could fall to sleep and allow time to decay, but time and time alone is all I have left. The wind outside is howling while I continue to wait for that one hello that will never come. To be burdened still by the shadows of her likeness, that smile, that look.

I cannot keep doing this to myself forever, but I will probably be here forever.

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