misstree
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i can feel my skin burn, times like these. the heat is immense, my hair tingling, blood racing, each cell jostling each other like commuters anxiously, angrily rushing to an execution. I feel every pulse. Every beat burns for you, to see you splash scarlet against the wall. The driver of my mind is tight and controlled as an athelete, holding rein on all that wants to burst forth. Patience, wild horses. Patience, ember and explosion. Patience. Just keep riding. When we get there we can all flower into our full and terrible potential.
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030721
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