Quote by: Hannah Kilfoyle

Waxy little strings, Wrapped about my wrists, Wavy crossy things, Working bodies twists, Where now do my feet, Writhe above the floor, Wading through mistreat, Whining from the bore, Why I hold my eyes, Washes through my mind, Watching all likewise, Wires puppets blind, Waltzing for the souls, Waiting in the rest, Walk for the controls, Winning those unblessed.


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