I tiptoe on the torn pieces of my heart. In the places I go I see the places I have died. And... In the faces I see that broken belief in who or what I have become. In this life, like wings it is my belief that hearts need us to soar. But... I hold off to find where I belong. In this life you are the one for me... In this life you are the girl for me...lets let it be a final belief.
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