Knives

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The emptiness. Like a knife. Running across all of my veins. One by one by one. It is the time to mourn in peace, because in the end, here and now, there really is no one left to comfort me. The end is near. Love has left my soul bleak and body battered. And love shall never resurface for me. I will not let it. I am, from now on, releasing my hold on life.

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