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Chance -Sungmin-This was to be one of the greatest moments of my life; A Super Junior signing in my state! It was unbelievable, I couldn't wait to meet one of my idols.
I was only slightly dissapointed when it turned out to only be Ryeowook, and You; Lee Sungmin.
Regardless that neither of you were my favourite, I still waited in line eagerly, watching from across the room as you smiled for every girl in line, posed for photos and signed your name with such skill.
Even halfway across the room I could see that it was just an act, your sweet smiles never quite reached your eyes, and if they did, it didn't hold the innocent sparkle you liked to pretend was there. It was something entirely darker, almost sexual.
By the time it was my turn to meet you I had watched you secretly stare at many of the women who passed your way with those eyes and when it was focused on me I didn't feel a shred of innocence from you, even as you giggled so child like.
Swallowing thickly I asked you to sign the cd I brought jus
You know who you areI don't mean to be emotional
That's just who I am
The slightestst thing sets me off
And I do, because I can
You don't mean to hurt me
I tell myself to stop
But then you do it again
And then I'm gone, and I simply cannot;
Take the bite out of me
Still the punctuaction
The sharp tongue in text
Just bare with me
Read my context
Because inisde I'm hurting
It's the bane of my sex
I'm left waiting and you're sound asleep
I talk, there's no answer
And my tongue I can't keep
It's who I am and for now and forever;
I'll have the bite in me
Take everything out of context
Because inside I'm hurting
You'll never know what's next
And I'm sorry
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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