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"My skin is always crawling," said the body to the soul "I've turned into an ant but there is nowhere left to go" the world is being eaten by the people being served but I won't come to dinner lest I'm cooked to be observed there seems to be a fire burning everything in sight consuming with a fury those who fair a different fight I may have lost some footing but I'll never lose my legs I will not play accomplice to what everybody says so catch me if you can and do whatever you so choose you may have burned my body but I crawled away from you
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
Some kinds of getaways are
"My skin is always crawling," said the body to the soul "I've turned into an ant but there is nowhere left to go" the world is being eaten by the people being served but I won't come to dinner lest I'm cooked to be observed there seems to be a fire burning everything in sight consuming with a fury those who fair a different fight I may have lost some footing but I'll never lose my legs I will not play accomplice to what everybody says so catch me if you can and do whatever you so choose you may have burned my body but I crawled away from you
when my mother speaks, I listen.
olga-valerevna
Written by
Ukrainian
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
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