Tell me what you see my dear. Do you see a girl or do you see the same thing that they saw years ago in the now forgotten past? The past that tore people to shreds. Do you know what I see, what I see in you? I see a girl, an artist with passion to remember what the masses have forgot. I see you and those goddamn broken eyes.
~What can I say (very little I assure you)...this is like an almost year old part of a piece of writing. Then again it's not like all my journal aren't parts of bigger things. Meh.
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A view through the rain covered window that is my mind. It may be a twisted view.