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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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forgot how to pronounce
all those pretty words resting now somewhere memory corner-shops each time i breath in the fading smoke surrounding me outer limits to the orb composing my spirit now and then and again on vertical stripe i bring in butterflies strangely colored in black sited now patiently on my lungs picking without remorse big chunks of life push the pedal to the metal still moving too slow nothing fits anymore in this damaged frame my life is set for slow-motion i look at you one last time and walk away surrounded by the void
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