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Jun 2014
Your words are glass that you keep spitting out at me
And they're ripping my skin to pieces
And your looks are grenades that you throw right at my face
And I'm picking shrapnel out of my hair
But I can't help myself
I've always liked the way you hurt me.
Experimenting with different styles
6.2.14
AmberLynne
Written by
AmberLynne  Louisiana
(Louisiana)   
397
 
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