The tide is always crashing, and things are never the same underneath. only the waves stay consistent. so lets put this behind us. we know things arent the same . hope plays a decietful role in this scharade we call love. did i win. does any one win? my lips longing for your touch. like a desert in summer. dry and desola te. another lost soul barried beneath this mound of regret. how can i take this back. if i did would you take me back. the moonlight reflects the image of a dre am that is long over. revive me, this cold is taking over. hope plays a decietfu l role in this scharade we call love. did i win. does anyone win? my lips longin g for touch, longing for your touch. fuck you. who said this is a game?my lips l onging for your touch.like a desert in summer. dry and desolate. another lost so ul barried beneath this mound of regret.
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