
Through the early winter into the long night I survived by the grace of the place I ended hanging by a thread in just enough light for my dying conscious rotten corps the coming spring will never let me bloom again but that is just a fact
Through the early winter into the long night I survived by the grace of the place I ended hanging by a thread in just enough light for my dying conscious rotten corps the coming spring will never let me bloom again but that is just a fact
Mooi Chris, soms heb ik ook wel eens het gevoel dat ik aan een draadje hang.
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Als een blaadje 😉
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