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Body Spinning with Trauma Memories
In the quiet hum of the late hour,
the world drifts into an embrace of shadows,
where echoes of laughter play hide and seek,
where whispers of pain linger in corners,
uninvited guests at the feast of my thoughts.
The moon, a silver watchful eye,
bears witness to the unraveling of time.

Author Honey Badger
Feb 6, 20255 min read
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