Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

A guilt trip no more

Once our lips had been sewn together,
It was hard to tell if we'd ever find a pair of scissors
To cut the string that kept our words imprisoned.

Once the silenced air had been poisoned with thoughts,
Smiles weren't too far off from gracing
Our faces with illustrious joy at the thought of happiness.

Though we know better, we kept it to a minimum and
Walked away feeling accomplished and right.
And now in my dreams, I plan other things to say.


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A guilt trip no more

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