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Autumn mornings I wake before the sun, scrape tired limbs from under the covers, leaving bits of myself behind like raw pancake batter... Pancakes... Is there time to make pancakes for breakfast?
Fabulous Ha! I love that word Eight letters, three snaps Fa-bu-lous
Looking into the mirror, Wiping away the tears. A new day is ahead And a new face appears. No one can see past The cover that is shown, But nobody really understands What is called the unknown.
Sitting, watching, model like girls, Strut in front of me with tight bouncy curls. Perfect legs and tiny waists, Seamlessly flawless face.   I can't help, but judge myself,
Lets pick a fight just for the heck. lets just be safe  And not break each others neck We roll and pull, push and turn. untill one of us can feel the burn... Babe let me give you a little advice,
Hi mister  how did you enter my room  my room says girls only at the door so thats why he goes through the window how was your day his cold breath asks . my day was beautiful it snowed , 
Forced against a sweltering stone; Bubbling, blistering, all alone, Heat cauterizing liquid bone.   Exhales trapped breath and withers in; Buttery smell soon to begin, stacked atop its bretheren. 
Puddles of pancakes pooling together on my plate.Liquid steam licks up their layersand ascends from their summit.Sweet syrup saturates their sarcous skin beforeharsh silver splits their fluffy flesh,
I was eating my pancakes Aunt Jemima’s Buttermilk and Liquid Maple Sugar
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