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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#467211voted by our readers
By PickledAly BRONZE
Centralia, Washington
I can hear you coming, like the soft crunch of fallen leaves. My skin prickles; hairs on end. A small shiver crackles down my spine, a sweet jolt that warns me your nearly upon...
Centralia, Washington
I can hear you coming, like the soft crunch of fallen leaves. My skin prickles; hairs on end. A small shiver crackles down my spine, a sweet jolt that warns me your nearly upon...