My voice quivers, breaks, and hitches. To reclaim the one I stole. The piano halts along with my voice, yet those other voices do not. I will die before her eyes. It ends as pain fills her eyes...
It's not finished. I don't think I want to 'complete' my writing (not that I ever really do). Meh.
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A view through the rain covered window that is my mind. It may be a twisted view.
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