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Smalltown Devotion
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
This shell I leave behind
filled with years of decay and pain
stains of knives and poison in my veins.
This death mask drops too the floor
On the ground it shatters,
a new face rises to greet the sky above
and the air reaches my lungs.
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About Me
The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot
I like morbid stories, forests, cities, snow in autmn, beautiful moments. Trust is required.
View my complete profile
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