Dec 2014
Your truth is sweet.
Mine is sharp.
I cut away at you, without meaning to,
my hands are scissors,
yours are feathers.
Icarus, do not let me be your sun.
Mine is sharp.
I cut away at you, without meaning to,
my hands are scissors,
yours are feathers.
Icarus, do not let me be your sun.
(27/F/body in U.S. heart in U.K)
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