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Mar 2013
You are an eight-bit heart attack,
a box of dynamite in the basement
of a match factory.

You don't explode me,
you implode me, I struggle
to keep it all in;

to stay together.

Call it crazy, unreasonable,
sadistic, but this is too deliberate.
Call me a Kennedy, baby.
I die for you.
Jenna Richardson
Written by
Jenna Richardson  Cleveland, Oh
(Cleveland, Oh)   
852
   Chuck
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