you ask,but I'm the eldest daughter,so it's You're On Your Own, Kid.My tears fall fast,but at least I'm tryingto let it go.Ivy vines clutch my heart desirously.It's getting hard to breathewithout you, but I know this feeling all too well."I'm a real tough kid," I chant,but what happens when cracks form?Will I emerge from an easter eggor crumble from their grasp?Will they bite from my skin like wolvesor get under it like foxes?And of course,there's the showgirl.Will she perform for the masseswith a heart aching so,or only for the one close to her,where she won't have to fake ittil she makes itbecause they're the 1who'll finally ruin the friendship,and perhaps she isn't on her own after all.
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