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Untitled

The smell of rusted metal and sweat leaking from the pours of the simpletons around me actual reliefs me.
It distracts my mind and releases the choke hold on my last sane thoughts that reside in a number of very few.
This relief only last so long until the clouds of my memories flood my mind once more.
The pieces of my hearts invade the veins cutting and stabbing reminding me there is no love.
Love exists to those just as well as an spiritual being does with in the fabric of our imagination.
Written by darken_hearts (venom love)
Published
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