She changes me,
twisting, molding, shaping.
It is incurable; thoughts of her
trapped in my veins like venom.
If her black tresses are the sky,
her eyes are the stars,
her face is the moon.
And I am the wolf.
She changes me, twisting, molding, shaping. It is incurable; thoughts of her trapped in my veins like venom. If her black tresses are the sky, her eyes are the stars, her face is the moon. And I am the wolf. |
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Comments
loved it..
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clocks kill dreams
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