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Entendez vous ma détresse? Je sens que je me perds,. Je suis dans un gouffre sans fin,. Le silence me tue,. Je ne suis rien,. Je ne suis personne,.
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Brooke is A Real Human Being! December 8, 2016. It crusts under my cuticles. Scar tissue knitted into scar burlap. Eyes to the fucking sky. Wanting you was a habit. Wearing the album that soothed my aching organs in the winter I learned I could be betrayed. Pretty good at all cardiac exercise,.
How I wish it was just as simple a procedure to wipe the memory of him out from my mind. Today, I deleted the contents of the album. Every single photo of us beaming at each other. It ended the way he said it never would. I can hardly write about it now because I have run out of things to say. Even my eyes are dry now.
Peut-être que ça aurait pu marcher.
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