she writes her feelings on her soul
every night before bed
and she tells me that she's cold
without love she is dead
eager for the things she can't find
wishing for the things that are too far
loving with all the things she's ever had
but it weighs her down
she whispers her thoughts to the moon
sends her dreams to the stars
she wasn't born with a silver spoon
still covers up those scars
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Dot dot dot
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a d0t.
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