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May 2014
The colors change, but i never do.
The butterfly has no memory of crawling towards itself
Never questioning its transformation It lives ITS DAY
flying into the sunset with the sunrise on its back.
And I know i would give up all those years in the shadow of a dark knowledge to feel one day of that warmth
as the colors fill my lungs,
And i realize there is peace in drowning.
Written by
sasha name  inside my head
(inside my head)   
233
   PrttyBrd
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