When I was once young I wrote many words I did not mean. I packed false emotions into lines and called them poems. I fabricated feelings and sowed them into sonnets. I memorized mythologies and retold them in rhyme. I made accusations and apologies equally unnecessary. I feared for myself and my vision, and often I hid in the shadows. I
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and yet, i read it here on your livejournal.
fate is cruel.
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