Ghosts of the past always seem to reside right on the edges of your vision haunting the movements of your life. Her ghost is there, a love past and gone but still tugging the strings of the mind and heart from that faded world. Shouldn't i deny her a heart open and disentangled when hers is so wrapped up in ethereal strings? It seems like life's
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(Apologies once again about my terrible vocabulary.)
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