lunes, 22 de abril de 2013


The death beauty laying on the floor. 
people have tried to help her with words of love. 
she can't just throw away that garbage in her head. 
instead she paint a fake smile in her face.
this will be over she reminds herself every day.
I wish that day could come faster, so I can fly again. 

Ugly poetry that doesn't rime from my diary. 
done. not again.

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