It's moments of continual earthshaking boredom that makes one want to do something devious even if only just to feel alive.
The pulse is forgotten on the skin, the heartbeat a function alone, flutters come by far too few when pedantic smiles conquer a face that once acknowledged a lot more expressions.. especially those of ecstasy and thrills that lie somewhere in a corner, compartmentalised and forgotten, jammed shut, screwed tight behind a lock and the keys are gifted away as an understating.
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