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Without a conscience, you will burn.
Without a sliver of hope, you’ll yearn, for the starry nights to kiss you once more…I’m gay. But not really.
I like facial hair, and songs, and writing, and pictures, and expressing my ever -growing angst through interpretive dance.
Without a sliver of hope, you’ll yearn, for the starry nights to kiss you once more…I’m gay. But not really.