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Mental
I had a dream of new born greens.
I had a vision of hell.
I had an urge to hunt down the wind
But I only found an empty shell.
The waves told me your secrets
And all the lies you’ve engraved.
The birds told me you were coming
And that I should misbehave.
They say I need quarantine
To mend my broken soul.
But how do you mend something that’s not broken
But has simply grown old?
Make me a quilt of your dreams,
And I’ll knit a web of mine.
I want you close to me as always
Regardless of the time.
Introduce me to your fists
Then seal the gesture with a kiss
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