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you almost killed me, but i didn't die.


the rest of my life is sleep, to dream of what it could have been. broken is more now than broken ever was then. something with some form of fix has gone and grown hopeless. so invent the tools to mend years, years, years of negligence. and the ability to forget, because it's over, it's all over now. don't tell me, don't tell me this is for good and the leaves will never change. i'm waiting, still waiting, for your face to exceed a picture frame.

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