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10:14 p.m. 2004-09-08

Paper dolls in fragility as porcelain we shatter ourselves and in mornings light the pieces are a masterpiece of collusion and catastrophe. Imagine me curled up and twisted on this bloody bed and you'd see the truth of who it was lying to you behind a screen of silver and glass. I never had the faintest chance or a real hope of becoming someone... i just want help i'm tired of dying...

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words @ jake, layout @ kelly