Most hells are the same. It’s your Devils that you have to choose wisely.

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When you’re lonely
Every sigh sounds like a violent noise.
Sometimes peace is found in between her legs.
But there’s also an ocean in her smile,
And I’m listening for laughter in her cheeks.
If you squint your eyes, she looks likes poetry
Which is ironic because
I can’t find the words to describe her.
I’m spilling at the seams and it’s fucking disgusting,
But poetry gets like that sometimes.
– Kata

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