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what death my lie on ones doorstep may mean life to another, while life is death itself to the first.
Not always are two paths seemingly sown of the same thread, in the same pattern. Diversity is between us.

the cold wind of midnight blows at sun up when one is in your arms. Anger fear and love together in a bundle of confusion as hands roam and strangers become aquainted.

fond memories form regrets and lives forever b3ecome altered. If the emotions were candy best to spit it out now and say the belly ache. Love handles itself in mysterious ways as lust creeps in from behind once more.


Ivy Nicole New

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If I did it...I didn't mean to.
If I hurt you...I didn't mean to.
If I left you...I didn't mean to.
If I scared you...I didn't mean to.
If I loved you...I didn't mean to.


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The following comments are for "untitled on 9-13"
by nicicole





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