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My skin. The skin you want to mark. Why should I let you?
He tells me i'm beautiful, makes me blush bright red. He tells me i'm funny, and thats enough said. He tells me i'm smart, and that i have a way with words. He tells me he loves me, and when he says that i hear birds.
Little girls growing up. Limited in their visions. Little boys growing up. Limited in their prosperity. Who are we? We the people. We are supposed to be free. Who are we? We the people. We are meant for simplicity.
Of the darkness emerging from our souls, beyond threshold of the black mire falling headfirst into the pits dying, our souls
Eyes forward. Chin up. Chest out. Head high. Stiff upper lip, now; that's it. You've got it. Don't slouch. Fall in line. Step lively. Look pretty. Lather. Smile. Repeat.