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To my palm sweating, nerve crashing whore: Storms aren’t always what they may perceived to be A devotion your yellow aura may reach in every direction, arms spread with longitude, tangled, Yet a bliss
Change. Its more than just a simple word, It’s a movement, a way of life. Too bad society has changed for the worse.
A blurred photograph can make a lot more sense than a clear one Look at the way she moves her arm to hit his head playfully Look at the way his face is blurred dodging that hit That action is day to day life
Right now while you’re staring at this screen there’s a girl out there A boy out there And they are looking in the mirror and screaming so loud you can’t hear them