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The death of romance
It's so cold
All excitement was replaced and converted to sharp sticking agony.
Where is home? she asked.
My heart has been fed to the wolves.
Your touch has become icelets,
Such...
All excitement was replaced and converted to sharp sticking agony.
Where is home? she asked.
My heart has been fed to the wolves.
Your touch has become icelets,
Such...
