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Do not come to me with closed doors. Nor with an escalator that only runs down from heaven. I want to be your addiction. Let me be the reason for the curve your lips make, When they smile, when they grin, when they kiss. I want to invade you, help you escape, like you do when you light a bud. Do not come to me with closed doors, I tell you again. Nor with an escalator that only runs down from heaven. I seek nothing but your love, your true self, that randomness. That creeps out upon us like a seven of eleven. - Aks.
0
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
Seven Of Eleven
Do not come to me with closed doors. Nor with an escalator that only runs down from heaven. I want to be your addiction. Let me be the reason for the curve your lips make, When they smile, when they grin, when they kiss. I want to invade you, help you escape, like you do when you light a bud. Do not come to me with closed doors, I tell you again. Nor with an escalator that only runs down from heaven. I seek nothing but your love, your true self, that randomness. That creeps out upon us like a seven of eleven. - Aks.
Random **** I think of.
aks
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23/M
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
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