I'm turning insideout.
She says"you are here"
She points the her heart.
My insides are projected.
Outwards,inwards.
The fog is creeping in.
It takes a hold of my skin.
Makes it crawl.
Makes me bawl.
Deep sour notes.
I see it all.
The graces of the past,
left behind for poets.
The same life
filled with countless strife.
They think the past is not real.
I beg to differ, I did not heal.





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Please visit my art
I can't tell you how much I love you username.
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With a swish and a MOO, the little cow FLEW!
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With a swish and a MOO, the little cow FLEW!
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I had your mother, and she tasted great!
Feel Fuckin Worthy
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"All art is quite useless." - Oscar Wilde
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"I believe in Spinoza's God who reveals himself in the orderly harmony of what exists, not in a God who concerns himself with the fates and actions of human beings."
-Albert Einstein
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where am i supposed to hide now?
what am i supposed to do?
did you really think i wouldnt see this through?
im still too tired to care and i gotta go
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