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within the palate lies the gift of true colors capable of birthing creations with violent ecstasy the Crafter's hand is the tool in their mind la..
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This was written for my mother. It is about abuse. She was not beaten to death, though I have seen her nearly die. I wrote this after I moved out.. I ..
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look in the mirror wipe off the mask of the day let it slowly fade from you disappear soon to be a distant thought wash away the filth the decay let o..
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looking in the shame finding all the flaws recreating her face with a round of applause that decadence of beauty resting in disgrace all Americ..
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