I fell for you, faster than I fell apart and I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard I ripped my heart out, and put it in your hands in hope that we'd put up a fight
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Never ill-speak of the πΝπΝπΝπΝπΊΝπ», well-said as he clutched the very last leaf catching up with his head before it goes wither as the windfall patronizing cloud on the afternoon gaze. Have we speak to @WitherOfKian yet?
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