"i was an angel. i was an angel." she cried. " i used to be an angel."
i guess im not in the mood to drink after all. daffa pats my head. the cigarette smoke follows you wherever you go. when i get home i want to draw pictures. pictures of us. but i'll probably be too tired. i have to work at nine A.M. i like wearing your jeans. and your shoes. but i hate it when we fight. and i hate it when you dont kiss me goodbye.
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