i can't breathe when you talk so softly on the telephone it makes me feel cold and alone with the awful same repeating refrain that for fifteen years has been in my thought-beat i'm sorry, i forget that you're broken, until you break down, again and the sky was aflame with pink clouds reflected in the mud on the ground and the blood covered up the screaming sound is that being too obvious? it's hard to be subtle when it's as thick as this and i'm sick of all this bullshit and everyone, except you and maybe another few who aren't fake and i know i wrote before i didn't but i still do feel like a lake that's calm and smooth and has nothing to say that's why i say it over and over again sometime i want to just pick up the drano bottle tell you "i love you" then tell you "this is the end"
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