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Poetry: Four AM Thoughts » The Aspergian
You’d think the world were ending. With how null-coloured cracks rack the sky. And razor winds shred the upside down sea overhead, Into shards of spray. And yet there’s something serene. About being small and inside. And entirely unaccountable for the downfall. Thunder shudders you to and fro. Lightning thrashes in flashes. Lashing at the skin thin pane of pale glass, you press your bare body to. Naught you can do, nor need to. When you’re more worried about this sweet storm ending, than your world. The constant cacophony crashes down around you. But you can let yourself get deafened. When there’s nothing you needRead More →