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Feb. 5th, 2001 | 03:32 am
mood: not me

bouncing along
not to be found
appearing again
magic, as if rising from the ground
side to side
the image sways
broken and fixed
like a child...
having a horrible fit.
the trees melt the face away
steps taken
trust casted blindly her way.
up stairs it leads
the image...
just me.
tilted slightly away
another face shall replace.

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