how much love can a boy contain in here? how many contradictions can a girl posess up there? these questions are too ambiguous, try to narrow down your search. somethings i know, it's hard. it's easy to forget where you came from if there's no question of your return, such selfishnesses trivialise any tenderness as the coffee commands the torture of my bowels, pronouncing every word with a rigid insensitivity, plus i struggle with the nightshade in my blood. I really shouldn't say it, but i just love what the water does.
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