With something drifting and something shifting, the earth still held the sky.
It doesn't get easier.
It doesn't get better.
It doesn't pass.
It doesn't move on.
It doesn't let up.
It doesn't give in.
The RIP is not for the one that leaves.
The RIP is for who get left behind.
And the RIP is an impossible, cruel dream.
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I think once my job is done by the end of the week, I will take two months off to write. Will keep my phone off. I realise I am spending way...
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