You don’t always have control over your own body, especially when your breath is trying to strangle you.
Your heart is trying to run away
And your chest just won’t allow it.
You are in a battle to try and breath
But your ribs are murders.
Kill the heart they scream.
You are at war with your intire being
As you fight of the tears that just started running.
Its burning lines down your cheeks,
Making it in possible to see.
Your hand are trying to keep the peace
Helping to dry the blush that they wanted to keep.
The mascara went and done it,
Graffiti everywhere, its a mess of black paint in the lines the tears left.
You would think its a horror story, but you will see, its just a nother unhappy
Love story.


Amazing! Ek is mal oor jou sterk slot strofe:
“The mascara went and done it,
Graffiti everywhere, its a mess of black paint in the lines the tears left.
You would think its a horror story, but you will see, its just a nother unhappy
Love story”.
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Ag dis awesome as jy comment op my goed dan weet ek dis goed. Dankie. When the inspiration come we need to write xxxx
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Xxxx
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