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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#53261voted by our readers
By Anonymous
when the cold air tastes like blood in my lungs and I would go home with a runny nose and my mother would make me honey toast and bananas cut into slices with brown sugar on e...
when the cold air tastes like blood in my lungs and I would go home with a runny nose and my mother would make me honey toast and bananas cut into slices with brown sugar on e...