jueves, 22 de noviembre de 2012


I don't want to talk about it, but I will anyway, cause it's eating inside me, it's making me grey. I said I don't like it, I truly don't. Naught can come from loss. But it's hard for me, hard to be alone, and I was expecting some love, yet someone else deserved it much better than I do, you went to have your way while I slept with my mirror gone blue. So take it however you want, I know you won't know. I don't care, anyway, because I know you don't.

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