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Missa Defunctorum
praise the lost souls, it'll set yours free
Summer Heat
Cryptics. All of us.
Speaking in tongues that aren't easily translated,
And when we find someone that speaks in the sense we do,
Why do we get nervous?

Not everyone understands you,
Or why you act the way you do;
So why is it when you find someone,
Depending on what level they want from you,
You run?

Strange.
We're all strange.
I'm getting bored of the puzzle.

Perhaps its time to learn a new tongue,
And reject you from my life,
Because then you and I - we don't speak the same language,
And then you and I - we're safe from each other.

And safety is on the hierarchy of needs.
Love is not.





 
 
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