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in my words, they found solace an uproot purge of wild-powers why can't I be walking on ceilings Rage Rage Rage tricked to think the float is insanity and finally a contact from my beloved invisible, unsuspected desires of virtue whilst entailed with sister tremors, you cross, draw on me, make translucent hearts of my wrists for how long shall your marks not rinse in my dreams I am you and you me repair my lucidity as the damp ornate sacrilege overcomes all that we've forever rarely been every semblance is lost, scramming towards dust maybe there I'll be able to scream play my tempered, vicious songs to earn distaste, a glance from strangers fuzzy teenaged tendency of trailing a finger on walls why do they despise of the essence? that won't ever reach, merit a place at the bottom precious my box filled of nick-nacks and for fewer decaying fevers and marvels of eternity, when keeping sanity as a raid against truth-telling but it won't matter when the world forgets and would-be birds still sing profanities in echoes of a symphony
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Jan 2, 2021
Jan 2, 2021 at 8:47 PM UTC
Darkdeed Of a Crisised Girl
in my words, they found solace an uproot purge of wild-powers why can't I be walking on ceilings Rage Rage Rage tricked to think the float is insanity and finally a contact from my beloved invisible, unsuspected desires of virtue whilst entailed with sister tremors, you cross, draw on me, make translucent hearts of my wrists for how long shall your marks not rinse in my dreams I am you and you me repair my lucidity as the damp ornate sacrilege overcomes all that we've forever rarely been every semblance is lost, scramming towards dust maybe there I'll be able to scream play my tempered, vicious songs to earn distaste, a glance from strangers fuzzy teenaged tendency of trailing a finger on walls why do they despise of the essence? that won't ever reach, merit a place at the bottom precious my box filled of nick-nacks and for fewer decaying fevers and marvels of eternity, when keeping sanity as a raid against truth-telling but it won't matter when the world forgets and would-be birds still sing profanities in echoes of a symphony
Vanessa1111
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20/F/Canada
Jan 2, 2021
Jan 2, 2021 at 8:47 PM UTC
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