What an interesting affair to swallow young teeth and young pride. Too weak to shiver anymore. Too afraid to walk alongside that crimson flame upon mirrors.
The twisting fate of future years / so pretty and so grim / damaged on a whim / like myself
Isn't it so funny? The way that you smile? Behind your broken teeth lies the truth of your guile. I am drawn to your touch, so destructive in the night. (I am) broken in the waking dawn, (in) the petty pain of sunlight.
Sunshine squalors my vision, ambition left in disrepair. It takes too much strength to pursue the wicked airs of happiness and pleasure. I think I'd rather wallow here upon the middle grounds of uncertainty and fear.
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