All of my ramblings on one site ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pretty girl is offering while he confesses everything In the mist of everyone rushing to class, she unmetophorically hands me the key to what I think is my way out. It always has been. Her delicate body made of paper swaying and fresh. It sinks into the depths of my pocket. She is gone, and I never reach the door. 3:17 p.m. - 2009-06-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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