Friday, 25 November 2011

If you saw how much I bleed, would you stop hurting me? If you had a slight idea of the expression of my grief, 
of my entire pain, would you stop hurting me? Do you know? Is your conscience aware of what you made with me? 
In times of war, play dead; there are no winners...
I get myself writing death related issues. 
It all started because I found out that love doesn't last much, truly it doesn't exist.

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