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It's as if you've given up on me, and given up on this. I can feel it in your fingertips, and the empty way you kiss. I can hear it in your tone of voice, and the lack of things you say. I can smell it on your icy breath, and the staleness of the day. I can see it in your hollow eyes, and the way you wring your hands. I can taste it in my empty mouth. A taste I cannot stand.
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Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 1:51 PM UTC
Coming to My Senses
It's as if you've given up on me, and given up on this. I can feel it in your fingertips, and the empty way you kiss. I can hear it in your tone of voice, and the lack of things you say. I can smell it on your icy breath, and the staleness of the day. I can see it in your hollow eyes, and the way you wring your hands. I can taste it in my empty mouth. A taste I cannot stand.
hannah-elizabeth
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Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 1:51 PM UTC
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