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Apr 2010
Love, the toothpicks that built the architecture to my suicide
***, the physical affliction my body hungers
Hate, what swells inside and comes alive when I'm drowning in lies
Time, I wish to slit that *****'s wrists and stop the fleeting chase of experience
Space, where everything goes numb
Life, impatiently awaits death
Death, the only thing that makes sense
Written by
Andrei
1.0k
     D Conors and Derek Dale Frazier
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