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Sep 2014
it's hard to find myself in the hours of the a.m. if i look in your arms i won't be there, my place already filled by a prettier girl with your british accent and my straight teeth. shadows in the doorway scare me back to sleep where i dream of our old text messages and how you wanted to kiss me and you were 'just saying' it but never actually got the chance to.
sunday 14th september '14 ~ this doesn't make sense and so it shouldn't. it's our story, nothing but a pretty cover and blank pages.
where the daisies grow
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