Suffocating under words of sorrow,
All this things I hate.
The poison.
Her voice resides.
Green roof, cobble stone floor,
Winter eve at an outdoor coffe.
Juggling fire between fingers and lips,
She stood draped in a veil of smoke.
So I can go with the flow... You know.
But this flow are killing me, every step of every day. You know.
Could you please take a deep breath
And give me a count to ten?
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