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■ The oak
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My words are stones; they go crashing into your soul, smashing everything in their way. My stone-words are reckless; they hurt you in ways you and I both deemed impossible. My reckless-words are harsh; they groan, and bark, and scream. My harsh-words are stupid; they never come out right. My stupid-words are useless; I cannot take them back.
My words are water; they flow over your soul and leave behind the dirt of my thoughts, and the lowest of my desires. Why couldn’t they leave freshness behind, for a change? My words are air; yet air is so hard to catch, and you’re always missing something. And I’m missing you right now, just like I knew I would, just like I said... My words are fire; they burn their way into your soul. I wish your soul would be fire-proof... word-proof... My words are stones; and, like stones, they go crashing into your soul, smashing everything in their way...
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