Maybe time running out is a giftI’ll work hard till the end of my shift And give you every sec
Maybe time running out is a giftI’ll work hard till the end of my shift And give you every second I can findAnd hope it isn’t me who’s left behind [x]this has been sitting in my sketchbook getting smudgy for a few months I have a lot of softness for them comforting each other post-Weirdmageddon and grappling with trauma, their own mortality, the whole nine yards -- source link
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