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Jun 24
The grief in me is swallows the air I breathe
Crawling, dragging me into its built of guilt
Behind its door of agony
I grind my teeth
Plucking the soul that wiltled
What a waste for the core you kept
I stand at the abyss
with boxes of the life I left
bourid her beneath
and let her rest
salma
Written by
salma  20/F
(20/F)   
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