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segunda-feira, 27 de agosto de 2012

Fuel.

I don't really remember how love's suppost to feel. Right now it's just paintful, boring, and sick. It's turned out to be a heavy weight in my weak shoulders. It's not just love, you know; it's every single piece of kindness, aprecciacion & smile and kisses that lost your way.

Sometimes I don't even feel love or empathy, but this time I can't let it go without putting it in letters that never gonna be read again. I don't even want you again, but my heart feels so heavy and full sometimes that every heartbeat breaks me apart.

Love's my drug, for the good or for the worst. It's my fuel, brings me back to life just to let me fall.
Love's a find a way that lost it final destination and can't fade away.

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