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Second Period Thread – Hawks at Capitals

I, I am a poison. And I, I am still coursing through your bloodstream like a ghost, like wine. Gathering vintage ’til the day I hurt the most.

I, I am a landmine. And I, I lay under soil, burned out by battles you thought you’d won.
I’ve got time to wait for the footsteps of a memory that’s on the run.

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