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The wind is picking up again; we're in the middle of a hurricane and it's easier to build a wall and defend ourselves at the first sign of pain but you put me on the fence, forcing me to choose, not what makes sense but what I'm afraid to lose. Hand in hand, interlaced, your sweet neck hides my face. This is where I feel safe. 02.09.19
0
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 3:02 PM UTC
the fence.
The wind is picking up again; we're in the middle of a hurricane and it's easier to build a wall and defend ourselves at the first sign of pain but you put me on the fence, forcing me to choose, not what makes sense but what I'm afraid to lose. Hand in hand, interlaced, your sweet neck hides my face. This is where I feel safe. 02.09.19
i would rather walk on glass to your open arms than on sand anywhere else.
earth2marze
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 3:02 PM UTC
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