... that some people want to be played delicately like a musical instrument. Sometimes (perhaps all the time, only deeply hidden) I only want to be ground to dust.
(for you, it's like a black hole. for me, it's the gash from the cleave of an axe. you speak in tongues. I imagine my head blown off with a shotgun. oh dear).
(for you, it's like a black hole. for me, it's the gash from the cleave of an axe. you speak in tongues. I imagine my head blown off with a shotgun. oh dear).
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