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my words MAG
My words my words my words what the hell even
Are my words, i don’t know they’re
Messy like my hair, perpetually mussed, and
They smell like lavender because it’s
My favorite color, they seem to have the kind of
Texture as an open field, grassy and full of
Life, and they sound like the ringing bells
of a Funeral march, marching along just Going and going and going until
they reach the grave.
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