Oz. he/him. Nothing but a specter. Just a place to spill my guts from a seaside island in Norway.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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Nikita Gill, from Fierce Fairytales Poems & Stories to Stir Your Soul; "Seven,"
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My pronouns are fuck/that and I identify as a problem.
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Waterfall amidst a mountain covered in ash after a volcano eruption
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Hey, I found our graveyard. It’s cigarette mounds and bitten lips and putrid resent. Shotgunning smoke and nails. Miss me yet?
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Yeah, I told you I loved you. I said I’d never get over you. You should know better than to believe in a ghost.
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Michael Reibel (American, b. 1964, Louisville, KY, USA, based Seabrook, SC, USA) - Nocturne Illumination in the Low Country, Paintings: Oil on Canvas
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for tiden,
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Aleksey Savrasov | Winter Landscape, 1871 | Lell, 1883 | Spring, c.1870 - 1880 | Grave, 1884 |
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Wendy Cope, "From June to December: Summer Villanelle"
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