Withered and worn in perfect fashion, my heart sings as it swims. A bubbly meringued pipsqueak, my heart is a dance. Diving and screeming my chest hurts like a plasm caged gig, a recital of selections just perfect for me and designed for you.
Some times I feel like I should create a disappearing act, something to mimic my own intention, my heart has grown to big for even me.
The pain will never be as powerful as my passion.
I cant be hurt, I cant lose. Everything I actualize, everything I pursue; alters into magic. I sense fear and I breathe, because I rely on the big plan.
Love.
Love.
Love.
Love .
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