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Knives hurt. I learned that my first day at school.
Even though I'm pretty.
I still learned it.
And our knives are designed to leave elegant, tempo..
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a poem of whimsical longing and hatred
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here is my true life version of "the way i loved you"
he's not sensible but so incredible
none of my single friends are jealous
he says everyting..
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are you afraid
of me growing up
or
are you afraid
that if you give me more freedom
i won't follow you
blindly
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