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He sucks in wheat fields and spits out dust bowls.
I woke up wet-skinned.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
postsecret
Each year a cake was placed in front of me, the candle amount growing steadily. Each year I blew them out and wished that you would love me.
2 comments:
Anonymous said...
Oh, that's too bad.
3:40 PM
Maya
said...
Well, it's fiction-- on this end at least.
12:28 PM
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The rocker, part II
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Maya
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2 comments:
Oh, that's too bad.
Well, it's fiction-- on this end at least.
Post a Comment