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The End Day's

And so we wait knowing we must miss it. Hoping it happens the day after we are no longer around. Tomorrow arrives and despite all its beauty it looks like hell. It figures though – we were assured that up until the End of Day’s all would be certainly not be well. Thus being righteously screwed; even though we stayed up late painting hallelujahs on the ceiling and promised to be as good as God could make us.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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Book: Shattered Sighs