| Where is that simple day before colours broke into shades And all that I ever made was in front of your eyes... |


Nothing to giveBut I fear I have nothing to give.Nothing to give
Roxas hated himself. For the God-knows-how-many-time that very day. The question 'Why' had been turning so much in his head that he started to wonder who had invented such a stupid word. Then again, not that most words made sense if you thought about it. Just a collection of letters that seem to be saying something, and the person reading them interprets it as language. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. The end of the world and he was thinking about words. Or whatever his thoughts turned to. But there was STILL the question who the hell invented that word.


MortIl était une forêt avec des rêves noirs une silence parfaite veux-tu danser? l'air très froid les corbeaux, minuit-noirs tes yeux; cristallins et verts des perles dans tes cheveux danse avec la Mort il câligne ta peau nu avec des doigts en verglas tu es son ange déchu... la brume entre les chênes danse toute l'éternité la musique d'un violon, solitaire dignement, mélancholique il était une forêt c'est le domain de la Mort et sMort
ID
--
This one opened twice
These two seem as smooth as silk
flashed against my eyes
Maybe You Don't Even Recognise Me Anymore XD
Anyway Everything Alright Around Those Parts?
Sure Is Here Haha
Well Maybe Speak To Ya Later
Bye
Kisses Western Bandit
--
don't say your happy if your eyes still cry
Goodbye my love
--
And yeah, I do recognize you dude, nice to hear that you're okay.
--
This one opened twice
These two seem as smooth as silk
flashed against my eyes
De Montréal au Québec.
Auguste
--
This one opened twice
These two seem as smooth as silk
flashed against my eyes
Auguste
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