Cut the flesh upwards,
Bend your bone cot.
Be aware of everything,
Soul scissors don’t stop...
Our oceans stay so iron sweet,
And this will never change...
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Our corrector eye lens cameras stay in range, far...
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Our mystery.
Messy make up burnt.
We’re not perfect but we are what we learn...
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And this is where we start, from the pain beauty curves and carves a new art...