fourty nine

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'Lately I've been thinking, thinking 'bout what we had. I know it was hard, it was all that we knew, yeah'

there boy wrote messily on the paper, eyes starting to lower themselves from the irish liquor.

'Have you(i) been drinking to take all the pain away? I wish that I could give you what you deserve'

He recalls what he said to you that night, the venom in his voice and the hurt in your face —

"you think i want you? you were just a wet hole for me to fuck when i was bored"

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