Here we go again,
memory erasing.
Believe in all we use to had,
loving and our ugly.
I can tell you how much I love you, it all depends do you want me to.
Baby I’m afraid of you,
the things you never told me.
I never loved for the things that made you perfect,
it was the ugly.
Right now I wish you could call me the ugly one,
love me and hug me.
There a moments when we don’t exist,
I wish I could keep it, all your ugly.
You don’t love me,
waiting for me to fly,
is it all because I’m beautiful?
Why all those secretes?
What’s the point of another lie?
Just call me,


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