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Warm up the digits that press. 

Press them for wamrth.

Fight that fear. Fight that clarity.

One two...more numbers to tingle at the tips.

One...two more reasons to give in.

It runs so deep you fear every phone call.

Fear it'll be like that ONE

It runs so shallow, wide and slow in everyday moments. In every moment leading to the precipice.

 

But i wont.

I wont call to you. 

I wont climb that peak...that pit...

My fingers arent numb. 

They're warm...even calloused i can feel 

That this is a bad idea. 

I can feel how much you've taken.

Wrists no longer limp frozen by hardship 

No longer poised, expecting pain.

No longer wishing for that phone to ring.

No longer living to hear you sing.

 

 

 

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