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I am not a virgin, but I am still pure. I am not a warrior, still, I'm fighting a war. Ink against white paper, stained and beautiful. I am an outsider but my heart is still full.
My body was a vessel for the male ego, An instrument of pleasure and of sexual gain, Until a sensory angel came into my life And turned sex into love again.
It’s so hazy in my head. I don’t even care about my daily bread. With you in my arm I am ahead. As long as I get my hit, I don’t care if for a year I don’t eat. It erases my problems in a second.