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rage
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He says it. the density on his breath like he's drugged and these words are the only thing keeping him sane; the only connection he holds with this world before he spins off into his next. His eyes eat me alive and we meet and i fall. its like looking into the deepest pits so deep that i can't see the bottom, it's dark and it scares me. still he stares and he breathes and i cant contemplate beauty or truth and i dont wonder if he means it or what hes thinking or what he understands beauty to be. because none of it matters. i can only stare back and smile a little though i dont need to my eyes mean far more than that and he's thankful for them my eyes and my breath hes thankful for me and that makes me believe that i am beautiful.
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070611
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