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Every time I look into your eyes, I struggle to believe all the fires that I see. The sparkles of a lover, and the pride of a creator. I stare into a mirror, and I ponder how can the self of what it sees. It makes you think in math, the love, the life, the cries, the death, the shame, the spite, and all for me. It makes you want to die for it. It makes you want to die for it. It makes you want to die for it. Oh.