"Who knows the cure for insanity?
Do you?
Do you?
Do I?
'Blank' becomes the image of my mind.
'Whisper' it does, like a motionless night.
Forgive me.
I killed you.
I blame you.
Because there is no cure."
One of those lovably random poems I came up with a few days ago. Too gloomy?
I bought a cute little notebook specifically for those occasions that I feel
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