1/13/2009

As of late

It is when I'm with you that I'm missing you, who'd wonder, and love you and think of you, and think of you in bulks.

And I can't even imagine how it is when you're not near.

Though to grip the fangs that is doubt, the heavy evenings release without notice as long as you are near, or anywhere at least.

I have change, indefinitely.

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