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The Voices Of Them

Updated on November 25, 2017

I’m breathless from this journey.

All the wrong reasons.

Selfless.

His musk has nested in my nostrils, not clawing there way out; taunting me.

Moisture was building across my forehead and rising from my palms.

Everything is telling me I was foolish.

Whiplash from paranoia, when will this end?

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