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What are these fingers
Dangling from hooks and strings
Contemplating strange things
No longer of a healthy mind
Maybe not enough oxygen to the brain
This perfect dreaming silouhette of a girl
Drunk and stumbling through the stars
Pretty Forgetmenot dances through my daydreams
Fluttering spirling petals in the sky
Shes exiting through my eyes
Like great streams of angelic light
Deteriorating her spirit one glance at a time
She doesn't want to grow old
Doesn't want to live past thirty
She just wants to disappear
And to erase her very existence
You can vanish into the sun
But you'll still exist in the flowers
That grow from the ash
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