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you were an unexpected. we were never supposed to be actual friends. but mutally we fell, got back up, and tripped again. you make me smile- even when it feels impossible.
WE are the priveledged ones, taking these deaths as our time to have fun. WE are not affected and WE cannot be told what to do, as the rest of the world stands silent and blue.
Growing up is getting old with heartache and storms Going through these years in most ways i've become cold Once numb to sensations my walls built so high Now I feel everything
Dear unknown force that supposedly created the world, You created the world Good job
March on, march on Little soldier, march on. The path may be weary And dreary And cold Through the gauntlet of expression and conformity, Of G notes and B naturals, Of passion and emptiness,
You're so confusing, Up and down. You say you love me, Yet you frown. It's just an illusion, Simply a hoax. I see the glances, The powerful trance. So now I know,
Worthless words, deceiving motives, Looking like, can I have you though? Place it on a platter, shit it's nothing to compare you. The time, places I've been and secrets I've kept.
I am filled with lost hopes and dreams and confusing words, lines, pages what does this mean? I'm still in the process of adding words still trying to figure out this thing called "Life"
Love Strong, wonderful Confusing, amusing, amazing A beautiful magical feeling Trust
That text that you sent was so convincing with the dots, Fragile like flower pots but dangerous like gun shots. It made me think -- about how I wanted you in the past,
Love is confusing. Love is amazing. Love is regenerizing and quite reassuring. But without love, what do you do? Without love, you become who you thought you'd never be.
Should I write you letters, or a post card maybe.. Do you even listen to me, or do you choose to make me wait? Dear God, are you listening? I can hear it's heartbeat, can you hear mine too?
He'll always be that guy, And he'll never be that guy, He'll always take my breath away even just for a second. And he'll never carry me away even just for a second. It'll always mean everything.
So many bells floating up and down, That seems to make a lot of sense, But up so floating many bells down, Can anyone call that a real sentence? A beeped up story, no one loved anyone,