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Jul 2017
(i'm going to talk crazy, so grab me by the blue collar
and scream to my chest, just like you wanted yesterday
then you can cut my blonde hair and swallow it
no wonder that you became so thin and weak-kneed
then take my heart rate and turn it into a majestic crater)

your windows are frozen, my lipstick is hot
tell me what you choose and i'll tell you now
whether my sparkle water will ever stay in your neck;
today those cranes are leaking onto your shoulders
just like hope dies whenever a star falls from the night
(I knew Fata Morgana is still alive, you didn't)
you're telling me that the sky is talking over my shoulder
and the ground is moaning behind our eyes
you'd want to be like them, tilting with windmills
and winning;
Written by
Bianca  17/F
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