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This infatuation, Causes me nothing but utter frustration. I've never actually talked to you, And I think a conversation is long over due. But when I see you walking around capmus,
As I sat there, in the desolation and iciness of my room, I couldn’t shake the thought of you from my helpless mind, and the sweet taste of your lips forever clinging to mine,
The needle falls from my hand.Golden orbs still bubbling beneath my skin.Honey coursing through my veins.The sweet nectar breathes life to my lonely heart.She reaches into the inner depths of my being.
I may or may not be obsessed with hippie life Hipsters are the now
Every thought is documented, across the globe, throughout the day. Personal life—an open book; online for the whole world to see, and prey. The drama, the agony, the hoots, and the tears;
They stare as if I'm some sort of monster, As I walk insecure and somber. No man dare look twice at me, For I am the rancid beast.