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Hunted writters Stories

hunted writters

a sinner, my love. his confession, my love. his wreckened soul

that wrong feeling when you touch the calculator instead of the piano keys, have you felt it?

How could I ever talk to you about this treason my love... this tremendous sin, this abomination of loyalty I reflect on silvers and glass? How could you ever understand? my love... How could you ever relate and forgive this sickness... In what words do I start and what sobs do I end?  my love.. And how could I ever ask for a favor? For I've been touching what I shouldn't my love I've been offering my youth to the evil......