Blood pours from her heart through her eyes
In hunger, she casts lustful glances at the withered grasses that served her couch.
Her bed is empty and moaning her missing weight on it.
But she wanders in thoughts
Through hopeless deserts
Swam the non-finite streams
Seeking proximity with her progenitors' quiet cry
But still drifts further from the hut of hope. # bringbackourgir ls
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