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rely on me.
i'm yours.

Kimmii K.
Self obsessed.
If I can't be beautiful, I'd rather just die.
You think she's so good but she's a mess to boot
You don't really want to know me.

Pervert(s) who's planning to watch porn later

material.

I want The Trouble Ring by Boucheron.
I want The Trinity Ring by Cartier.
I want To travel to Venice.
I want To travel to Greece.
I want To return to the U.S.A.
I want Real Love.
I want To rule the world
I want To make them sorry.

not alone.





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my days, not yours.

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thank you.

Layout: Kary-yan/Missyan.
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Tuesday, June 09, 2009


And we all sing,


And they wait for her to come home one day.

Love turns up in strange places.

She was born in a family of the upper class.
From the window she saw a man.
Scruffy. Homeless.
Why would anyone fall in love with a homeless man?
She did.

Gleam of who he used to be in his eyes.
Sneaking out became a regular habit.
He wasn't so sure at first.
Why would anyone fall in love with a homeless man like him?
She did.

He told her stories of the world, of all the things he used to do.
There was no way anybody could lie about all that.
You could see the truth in his eyes, behind the dirty clothes.

She brought him home one day, made good of him.
A bit of washing up, and a change of clothes.
He became the man he used to be.

She loved him. He loved her.
There was no doubt about their passion.
Her family found out about him.
Why would anyone love a homeless man?
No status. No wealth.
She loved.

He was turned away, back into the streets which he once roamed aimlessly.
She ran out, ignoring her family.
Escape was the only thing on her mind.
Status. Wealth.
Why would those things matter to her?
She had been surrounded by those from the moment she was born.
Change.

They went to the seaside.
Sunset.
She loved him. He loved her.
He told her stories she had never heard off.
The rays were orange, red, yellow.
Who would love that man?
She would.

Walked into the water.
Fine clothes stained with saltwater.
Hand in hand.
Sun ahead of them.
A slow stroll.
To the brightness in front of them.
Up to their necks, waves crashing.

A whisper in the ear.
A kiss given.
A step taken.
To join the ranks of those who had ever loved.

Maybe they were created to love.


Come love, see my hands


8:33 PM