I get up and I’m thinking, if all

what happens to me happens to someone else.

Cuts, tears, fake smiles.

I think this goes no, my head will explode.

Nose happens to me, I changed a lot of humor.

cuts on my arm there tell me that’s not me.

The girl who was, faithful and loving

back in the past half remained blurred.

A pink wardrobes, full of butterflies

change one black, perhaps change the time.

pass second year it is all that I want but I’m going in as shit why would I try?

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