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I bet roses grow through the cracks in your voice and the vodka flows from the corner of your eyes, I bet your amazingly beautiful when you cry. Maybe that's all I've ever wanted, to feel the importance of my tears and the rose scented blood running through my veins. Sometimes its easier to accept the fact that those things don't exist within your gene pool to sit around and wish they had and dwell on it. But I guess the saddest part is I need air to breathe...and you were my air. Dedicated to my wonderful and loving best friend. I love you.
Eyes Open
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