The woods are white with rain but it feels like a shivering desert,
little drops of winter in the middle August. The trees are wiggling
little drops of winter in the middle August. The trees are wiggling
like rotten teeth in the mouth of a child. It makes me want to lick
the candy stuck to the roof of your mouth. They fell with the sounds
of a collapsing skeleton. I set my room on fire when I go to sleep,
I like to think it keeps the ghosts away. Then, I awake to a storm
I like to think it keeps the ghosts away. Then, I awake to a storm
at the end of the bottle and ask the captain to turn this ship around.
you can kiss her soul now. if you still want
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