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Paint Night

Pain Raw, unchased, Yet Self inflicted.


Looms, formidable, Painting over the windows and memories of love. Driving away the light

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Standing in Love

How? Ever? Am I? Will I? Recover from this. Blatantly you refused my earnest love. My pain, to you, is amusing. Because I believed your kisses, Let myself fall, while you stood and watched. Continue t

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Love is art—written words are powerful universally.

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