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Living dead in America

Making my way in a world that tells me not to.

September 10, 2009

Raptor

She had feet like railways
You could hear the smallest movements
As she swayed
Broadcasting from this little house
The father wiped hair from his eyes
He'd built a bridge for the voices in his head
They opened eyes underneath his skin
Posted by cardboardjesus at 1:38 AM

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      • Stupidest
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