(c) 2012 erin at Mortem. Feel free to use this format, however
you must leave all credit on and leave all credit as is. You can
not REDISTRIBUTE IT either. You in no way can change the form of
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I feel like I’m walking on the blade of a knife.
There’s something twisted inside of me and it’s like,
if I close my eyes, I can feel something. Something dark and
shadowy and far away, but something all the same. Sometimes I
pretend it’s you. That you’ve somehow left a part of
you behind, in my mind. And that if I whisper very, very softly
(sometimes the softest whisper can be heard far better than angry
screaming because you’d rather hear the whisper),
you’ll hear me. You’ll feel me. You’ll
remember. Because I’m sure you’ve forgotten.
Everything. But I don’t whisper, because I’d rather
sorta believe it’s you than find out for sure that
it’s just me. And I’ve gone mad.
-Beneath
You; Cinnamon
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(c) 2012 erin at mortem. Do not remove any credit.