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Dry…

  Dry, empty and flawed… feeling always like a fraud. Too much love to give, too few hands held out, to receive it, Too many dreams sketched on beaches of sandy doubts. *** Dry, empty and flawed… Feeling alwaysΒ  like a fraud. Wanting words to be immortal, yet feeling asΒ  they fade, terribly ethereal… Terribly…… Continue reading Dry…