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This diary entry is written by ‹stickyvaporeon›. ( View all entries )
 
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It's never really over.Category: Life
Sunday, 2 November 2014
02:49:10 AM (GMT)
I'm not sad; I just kinda want my ribs cracked and ripped out.
I'm perfectly terrified and surround my skull with a miniature ocean of sound.
It's what we're worried about, this is what we were afraid of.
I got high and ever since purple has been an entirely different color.
It's been so long but I'm going to have to let some ghosts out eventually. 
They've been building up in my veins and bones and flesh. They want out. 
I still want what I can't want and can't have, and I worry about what part love is
playing now.
I need deep music and gem stone colors.
I need silence and I need to be alone.


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