It was for you. |
When we are home. |
Ink is my testimony; I pour it out and watch it bubble then boil until it burns my fingertips. |
It is our striving to heal the joint hurt |
Just bastards punish people fore telling the truth |
Hide your drunkenness from the wickets |
Whatever prevents you from seeing the beauty of others, denies you the beauty of your own. |
Never lie to her |
I burn inside when I see cold people. |
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