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May 2017
Every night nearly,
I've wished to hold you dearly.
And every morning at three,
Your memory creeps up on me.
But fear not, dear,
We weep long into the night when no one can hear.
****** hearts aren't beneath us,
In the absence of truth plus
The trust
And the lust
And consumed by fire
We are put on the pyre.
insomniatrical
Written by
insomniatrical  22/@ ur mom's rn
(22/@ ur mom's rn)   
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