There's darkness around. Hope is absent. Strange... the numbness that creeps up my fingertips and touches my heart only intensifies the pain when I see how I have failed... I have fallen and cannot seem to rise. Let alone, stand.
Fare thee well, harbored hopes of mine... painted harlots that I can least afford. I banish ye from my sight. The drunken eyes well painted.... let me not be swayed any more. I cannot afford to break again... for the next time, I shall surely die.
Fare thee well, harbored hopes of mine... painted harlots that I can least afford. I banish ye from my sight. The drunken eyes well painted.... let me not be swayed any more. I cannot afford to break again... for the next time, I shall surely die.
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