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Could I move to believe myself? Here I burnt you, through fiery love-passion or lust. But now, after countless rooms of thought, I cease to chip at you. Not wanting to expose what lay beneath these layers of dirt, because I am afraid, afraid of what lie underneath, as it may be too recognizable.
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
Sick of the best years of our lives
Could I move to believe myself? Here I burnt you, through fiery love-passion or lust. But now, after countless rooms of thought, I cease to chip at you. Not wanting to expose what lay beneath these layers of dirt, because I am afraid, afraid of what lie underneath, as it may be too recognizable.
tyler-mccarthy
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
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