In pieces of postcards, I will find you again. Somewhere where I'm out finding myself. Among those shreds of paper, I will feel your hands again, haunting me. I will miss you. One of these days.
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In pieces of postcards, I will find you again. Somewhere where I'm out finding myself. Among those shreds of paper, I will feel your hands again, haunting me. I will miss you. One of these days.
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