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So Apropos
Saw death on a sunny snowFor every life, forego the parable. Seek the light, my knees are cold. (Running home, running home) Go find another lover; To bring and- to string along. With all your lies, you're still very lovable. I toured the light, so many foreign roads For Emma, forever ago. |
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about art.
Art is what you can get away with.
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affiliates
bridget.carine. divinia. jieyang. gabby. michelle. monica. muk. patricia. sara. wendy. PLAYLIST twitter
credits
Design: doughnutcrazyIcon: morphine_kissed Do credit accordingly if you changed the icon. |
confusion says:
Firm, holding air like strangling a child, feeling its tapping pulse on your painted fingertips. Blue is bleeding into veins of oxygen, and suddenly you choke on yourself, releasing in shock and horror. Time is not an essence, nor a tangible solution, rather a melting, steaming clock on our doorstep, sticky to the touch. Running is elastic, and rubber-souled, you don't bother. Stock-still, statuesque, and stoned. Potential is kept within the eyes, rubbing and tipping into sighs. |