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my world view with a kaleidoscope lens childish preference at it's very finest grasping concepts and hope instead of rage hope--of someday sharing that communal troth my constant strife to create nothing but good sometimes failing, but still caring, like i think we should potential greatness freely flowing from our hands reality's palms are full of life, death, and the in between countless decisions of forks, spoons, or those petty knives my--such a short cycle, but really it's just enough to create, to alter, to change, to better, to love crisscross applesauce and your angels much much above rationality killed by deception irrationality triggered by love shot--- once, twice, too many times i beg, take what you need, and nothing more at the end of our time, we'll divvy up the score butter knives, daggers, and those lifetime swords no matter the sunny day, surely cutting bit by bit innocent white flesh, to the bone, to the heart a darkening of my color as the demons crawl out it is our young desire, and not our actions, that are shared but in hope, put to the side, so that one day we may be paired
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Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 11:56 PM UTC
your daggers
my world view with a kaleidoscope lens childish preference at it's very finest grasping concepts and hope instead of rage hope--of someday sharing that communal troth my constant strife to create nothing but good sometimes failing, but still caring, like i think we should potential greatness freely flowing from our hands reality's palms are full of life, death, and the in between countless decisions of forks, spoons, or those petty knives my--such a short cycle, but really it's just enough to create, to alter, to change, to better, to love crisscross applesauce and your angels much much above rationality killed by deception irrationality triggered by love shot--- once, twice, too many times i beg, take what you need, and nothing more at the end of our time, we'll divvy up the score butter knives, daggers, and those lifetime swords no matter the sunny day, surely cutting bit by bit innocent white flesh, to the bone, to the heart a darkening of my color as the demons crawl out it is our young desire, and not our actions, that are shared but in hope, put to the side, so that one day we may be paired
richelle-leigh
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Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 11:56 PM UTC
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