Walking through holy smoke like fog //
the taste of rain in my mouth //
I can't seem to hold on to you //
desperately clinging to the edge of you //
'till it frays...
O.o ?
Well, where did that come from again, I wonder...
Rather angsty, but I like it. I swear my muse must be some sort of psycho! Either that or a certain other (rather unwelcome)
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