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For the writer's cramp. |
| She had no idea where she was going, or when I was going, or when going became gone... I try to build a fantasy world, a fantastic fantasy world. I try to make her happy, by telling her don't not be happy! but it's falling a- part. when she tells me on the phone that some pills would suffice to ease some sadness, sickly sores they're for supposed to be I feel like dropping the phone my dear, Like throwing the phone my dear, If you could hear: my dear, my dear. i swear i'm losing a piece of my mind piece by piece by piece but I love at least be sure of that Linecount:34 |