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Nov 2014
Your hair is the noose around my neck,
which you chose to cut before I fell.
Your eyes are the pool I drown in,
but you blink and splash me out.
Your words are the venom of my ears,
luckily, the kiss you give me is the antidote.
You are the oxygen which I breath,
and nothing bad can come of that.
MST
Written by
MST  Leipzig
(Leipzig)   
565
 
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