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Whoa, it's actually a poem.I used to examine the hair on my arms when you talked to me and push it so it would all fall in the same direction because it made my skin look tougher.Whoa, it's actually a poem.
By the time I looked up,
my blush would be gone.
Youre trying to grow a beard but the fuzz is still the same color as your chin and I can see it when you laugh. Once we were both waiting for something in the history room, and you sat on the windowsill. When you spoke, your jaw
outlined your words like you suddenly were older.
Before I would never look at you because &n
--
One with the Darkness
--
Me against the world
--
Love is not like anything.
Especially a fucking knife.
--
Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.
--
- No solo un mensaje, sino un pasaje a mi galeria -
- Not just a message but a ticket to visit my gallery -
--
Rhythms that you go through..
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