Everything will work out.
I know, it.
My hands are trying not to clasp around your throat.
And then around my own.
I'll sit on them, and keep my mouth wide-shut.
I don't want to speak to you or have anything to do with you.
But I can't get enough of you.
Come, come to see me.
Hold my hands for me.
It's all getting too much, and I don't know who to pick.
Someone needs to pick me.
Quick.
Before it's too late.
S.J.D.K.
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