I Q B A L H Y C A L
emosloppy
:
The violence of flowers prev
by *
Carnegriff
i wish one day my son will be like this .
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What's so good about picking up the pieces?
I've lost all faith in everything I know, again.
I'm falling apart and I feel so low, again.
It'll never be the same, never be the same.
Stop pretending like you cared, I'm sick of carrying the blame.
Ask me anything
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