/r/TwoSentenceSadness
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Rosewater, cedar smoke, formaldehyde : I stare, benumbed, at your hands alone (settled in a neat complacency you all but lacked in life) : ghost-gray fingers slender : rheumy candle wax : ugly cocktail ring.
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"At least it can't get any worse" said 13 year old me, having to brush off some more than unpleasant growing pains.
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