Blackened Pneuma

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  I bid you a due to the things that use to seem so alluring. One of the things to learn early in life is you can never change one's perspective of one's self. You can tear the things you dislike about them into many threads of hatred and still conclude that those things were once the reasons as to why you were and still are infatuated of the simple touch by them. That is neither here nor there. I can only take so much of the little things that seem to get us by. Never been the kind to settle for pitiful washed up things that never belong to me. I refuse to wallow in my own river that seems to melt through the eyes that use to shimmer from a message or just by looking at you. Fragments never compare to the whole. I must come to this realization that being alone is best settled as my heart is being demolished by the thought of leaving you. It's not the thought of being alone that frightens me, but the thought of dealing with another creation such as yourself. I am considered as your slivered indulgent.  

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