Together they both get gray.

Aggro: The hatred in me reflects back, I turn to stone. Science: I can’t think of how to understand the distance between us. Crush: Hobbled by anticipated insanity. Breath: Do you also feel the pull of this particular abyss? Dive: The torch songs tell of that kind of sacrifice. Construct: My mother told her daughters to get our education first because no man could take that from us. Falsehood: Crippled by concept and unable to take a step. Rigor: Flailing about for some use. Uphill: Face pressed against the glorious noise. Hulk: If you can lift your own weight you depend on nothing. Sew: All patches leak eventually. Grunt: The smallest one is easiest to catch and gets the knife first. Joke: Your opinion of me can’t be based on facts. Nun: Dreaming out the window as the water runs out. Slag: I epoxied my story shut.

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~ by Athena on July 14, 2017.

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