Innocence
Chiho Jing Digital
Guinevere Reaume
Frayed Rope
No magnetic pull, just manual labor.
Our hands, calloused, Trying to keep this thin rope from breaking,
Because once it breaks, you’re gone, And my thoughts would crawl inside your soul. How I wish I could stop them,
Permanently feasting at your brain, So, I just pull until my arms give out and then some.
When you get too tired, I’ll work for the both of us.
A merciless battle against the unknown, And I can do nothing but pull.
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