My insides are all a'whack.
If I stay busy enough, I don't think about you.
But when I think about you, I freeze.
Clam up.
The knowledge of you gnaws at me from the very depths of my being.
You're real and alive because I made you.
He made you.
He made you beautiful.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Nothing Compares
Posted by Brian at 8:23 PM
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