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Carly Fletcher Dec 2013
How desperately I want to believe that you did it all for me
The sick truth lies in your selfish needs
No more, I can't hurt myself uselessly
I've come to a conclusion
Not to gorge on our memories
Instead to regurgitate them into a golden pail
No longer, will you be the king that I hail.

But, I'll keep the bucket.

— The End —