Monday, April 6, 2009
...You're nothing that you claimed to be and I am every broken little thing I thought myself to be.

But who am I to talk? I'd pick up a broken bottle from the street just to give it one last throw and watch it shatter to a billion pieces, or pick the last petal off a dying flower too...

1 words of wisdom:

Anonymous said...

And thats why we love you ♥
Cross

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No matter where I am, I'm lost and learning to like it. I'm a living contradiction, and the best lies I tell are the ones I tell myself.
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