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Loves
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To Wield Both a Pen and a Sword
I want to hold
Both a pen and a sword,
To find struggle within my words,
To make pain drip from the ink,
Trickling onto my palms,
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false and fact
I don’t know what I should think anymore
you left me standing out on the dance floor
with the best of intentions I go back
finding no difference between false and fact
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symphony
why does your sympathy
sound like a symphony
that I don’t want to hear?
that hidden part of me
sounds like a harmony
that I can’t even bear
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fresh air
inseparable,
like twists of a candy cane
unacceptable,
how we both became insane
undeniable,
each time I saw you I’d grin
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on the off-road?
two weeks ago we were stuck in the plains
somewhere in the midwest with no service. you pulled out
some 1999 AAA member's map and said
"crack it open," and i still loved you, even then. words flowed