Bottles flow and tempers grow, broken shards painted red, bitter niceties won’t fix the bruise, the hurt runs deep, won’t call a truce, lived in delusion, you never cared. I bled into your lap, said […]
Bottles flow and tempers grow, broken shards painted red, bitter niceties won’t fix the bruise, the hurt runs deep, won’t call a truce, lived in delusion, you never cared. I bled into your lap, said […]
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