textdanger

press pause.writing those lines is anything but a cry for attention. i desire the purity of a tribe with no vain where i belong. or i can pretend i belong better than i do now.press pause.
i am slowly becoming the pathetic poet I hate the most.
i am stripping. pulling off taboos and restrains, washing away my disbelief. teach me how to believe again. i struggle with the profound need for fate.
did i give up? is the passionate believer dead, and is a fateless soul walking with their body now?
the voices in her head cease
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Labels are for cans. Do I look like a can to you?!
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97% of all people enjoy putting a statistic in their signature. If you're among the 3%... Oh, wait... Shit.
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Labels are for cans. Do I look like a can to you?!
---
97% of all people enjoy putting a statistic in their signature. If you're among the 3%... Oh, wait... Shit.
--
Labels are for cans. Do I look like a can to you?!
---
97% of all people enjoy putting a statistic in their signature. If you're among the 3%... Oh, wait... Shit.
--
Labels are for cans. Do I look like a can to you?!
---
97% of all people enjoy putting a statistic in their signature. If you're among the 3%... Oh, wait... Shit.
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Now The Miracle and The Sleeper know that the third one is love.
Love is the dance of eternity.
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Labels are for cans. Do I look like a can to you?!
---
97% of all people enjoy putting a statistic in their signature. If you're among the 3%... Oh, wait... Shit.
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