

Moving Toward the EndThe cuts get deeper everyday No amount of therapy can make them go away Crying wile the razor rips the skin Making a permanent mark No amount of love can make these tears stop Hurting on the inside and out The plethora of wounds no longer seem to help They are only an evanescent relief From this hell in which I live Sometimes I get the sensation Of drifting in and out of life That's when I am most relaxed When I am about to die I seem to be happy in this state of mind No longer a prisoner in this foul world Living feels like a whimsical request BecMoving Toward the End
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Lock&Load
Lorrayn
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The creation of perfect images involves years of learning and tremendous dedication.
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Sometimes I think, I would float away
If this sadness did not weigh me down
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Sometimes I think, I would float away
If this sadness did not weigh me down
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Commission Info Closed
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Floating to infinity, collapse and come undone perfectly.
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