Yesteryear
“How I long to fall just a little bit, to dance out of the lines
and stray from the light, but i fear that to fall in love with
you is to fall from a great and gruesom height. So i asked a
friend about it, on a bad day, her husband had just left her,
she sat down on the chair he left behind, she said, “what is
love, where did it get me? whoever thought of love is no friend
of mine.”
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