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Chapter 11: Turn the page.
[ January 21, 2003 ++ 12:27 a.m. ]

You have lost your scent and, your texture. What I once found appealing, Is now dead. What I thought we shared, never really was there. An illusion, a thought, a state of mind is where you existed. The bird with no feathers. I was wrong, and so were you. It's still hard to read/did you ever read me? I just don't understand.

Kiss | Me