The Cross-Town Walk Home Comments

The cross-town walk home kills me everytime, when weaving through parkland, my pysche wanders a different path
l replay those moments, short and sweet and salty and the laughter pealing from a rain-stained face as l watch you exist, beautifully, but
l'm scared, so scared.
The cross-town walk gnaws at my chilling bones and the way l say 'belly' echoes in my ears as l imagine mine growing
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