“i’d just wait and know that it will happen,” she said. guess she read the secret. mindwaves and all that, bringing you what you are focused on.
our angels are all broken. lies disguised by grace, great beauty. get close and you could be burned. better to fly high and get your wings melted like ol’ fuckface than cower in the dirt.
time, the great pretender, root up-ender. if you were a plant and you sang, what would your song be? anyone can judge, but who really knows what it feels like to really feel something. punch a 2 on the punching machine.
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