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Truth is, I've forgotten my name and I’ve shattered all the mirrors. All I know is the bruises that paint my skin. I freeze in place every night when I go to sleep, so I don’t close my eyes anymore. The cigarette hangs from my lips, suffocating me. Time... I fight for truth. I hunger for a quiet place.
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highonflowers:
“ ph. honer akrawi
” Posted 7 years ago with 63 notes
Reblogged from diskodoktor
Originally posted by diskodoktor
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