A pound of gold for more time.
The grain of reflection will soon take what I chose to remember.
Below a skittish veneer will I hold your temperament dear?
Will you still hold me within your opaque gaze?
You and I, were not meant to be for all to see.
Ours is a private history.
Yours is a wild heart for comfort during human misery.
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You're always one decision away from a totally different life
Autism-spectrum-disorder, posttraumatic stress disorder.. autoimmune.
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