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Dear Me, It doesn't matter what you say, you don't know me I don't even know me...well I'm still trying to figure me out And yes I have flaws but name a person who doesn't. Not you. And certainly not I.
All of the words I locked behind a door in my head releases onto the page. Splatter, splatter; they spill onto the once carefully unmarked slate. Now I'd rather have vivid colors than an empty page. An empty life full of lies.
I used to have wings They dripped golden light And were as strong as the hardest steel My wings had their own music And sang along to my beating heart   You didn't used to have wings
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