My wrists burn so deep inside. Slash at the skin
I've exhausted dreams and aspirations. I have failed myself and
if i were you and you were me i wouldnt
i blacked out twenty four times today with ten minute
pointing poison fingers there may be no difference between acceptance
one asks himself:
"how does it feel to be the only
Your deceit has stained your flesh and your obscurities have
It doesn't make it easier to think its not there
i picked up a slew of superstitions straight from the
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