When It's Real

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Take the wind and turn it into a whip.
Give it a handle of hate.
Let it crack and strike and rip,
feel the burning sting.
Watch the liquid it lets flow,
Flow until it goes so cold it turns to ice.
This is When.

You become scarce,
Because it hides you.
Quiet,
Because it protects you,
Alone,
Because it surrounds.
This is when,
It all becomes real.





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