It's winter –
Cold, heavy on my chest.
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Listen to the city at night.
Sounds like home, doesn't it?
Sounds like millions of innocent victims screaming.
Somehow these pills have killed my creative side.
Of course they help.
But I used to be happier.
long time no see my lovely poetry-blog. so red and so grey. like the line between life and death. the madness didn't go anywhere and we wait for the power to return and dominate our pathetic lives.