She doesn't cry, she bleeds. She doesn't smile, she's eccedentesiast. Some nights she pray, some nights she cut herself and hope pain will go away.
I'm Aiming for the Moon
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bookPlaces of Poetry : Mapping the Nation in Verse
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Edith Wharton, Irene Goldman-Price
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audiobookbookTaking the Arrow Out of the Heart
Alice Walker
audiobookbookDette er et stille sted
Niels Fredrik Dahl
bookWhen Angels Speak of Love
bell hooks
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