Love carries a knife, to score my words.
This jumble sale of words is a plea.
My heart bruised violet, a hairline crack appearing.
What did I do? What did I do?
I played second best, I never suited the blue ribbon strapped firmly to my chest.
I wrapped myself so very tightly around your little finger, I stapled my pulse to you.
Gestures line...
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i miss camping, i'm actually sort of glad to hear people do still go camping, because i remember thinkinga while ago that with the exception of festivals and stuff, it seems to be something that's become sort of a remnant of ye olde days. like rainbow, and jeremy beadle. not that i am in any way complaining about jeremy beadles departure from the limelight. oh no. . .
hope you're doing alright- enjoy your trip