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A girl stands directly in front of me. Her eyes follow mine as she begins to smile. I desire to know more. I look closer and see the pain that she keeps hidden. Her soul consists of emptiness.
This disease is stealing you away from everybody you care about inability to disclose you need help but you can't accept it too proud to take anybody's hand or to admit defeat and then with poetic justice
Mirror, o' mirror Clung upon my wall. Reveal unto me Life Or, blessed Death shall befall!   A Frankenstein of thought Molded by the Divine. A Mad hatters’ noxious creation,
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