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Dec 2018
picking at imperfections like the pimples on my face
now each bite leaves a sour taste
bitter moments tipping on my tongue
smoke filled air trapped inside my lungs
black and white are the only colors i see
i can't even hear the ground underneath my feet
my soul has lost its senses to live
i have lost everything, what is there left to give
Written by
LC  F/Canada
   ---, Fawn, Perry and Me Díaz
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