I have served you well in your sickness and in my poor health. But my poor health has served me well. May our vows die with you when you say “I do”. Say I do. Religion is your crutch for being a slut and you’re such an injured fuck. A diary to my bad luck, but my bad luck has served me well. I leave you to have and to hold this curse from this day forward, for worse and worse. For poor and poorer. In sickness and lack of heart. Until death does it’s part

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