graphic

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If the walls could talk the secrets would flow The hatred will grow That's why we hope nobody knows But the walls talk  They know what I did this summer And while the darkess spreads  Cup runneth over
Engraving on the hilt inlaid with gold Newly daubed with tar of flesh and bone A ruddy smearing on the blade Tearing ‘tween muscle, marrow A carving of the heart
Dear God (if you are even there) The world is cruel Most people realize this at a young age Well at least I did When I was young, everything seemed so big
It's like  the cool snap of a winter breeze with the sky so pink you can't make out grey clouds It's like the warmth of a fresh popped with brownies overflowing from the innards It's like
*this describes in great detail sexual abuse so stop reading now if you can't handle it*   im meeting my childhood monster next month  no one knows he's my monster no one even knows i have a monster like him
existence crafted out of abuse
I believe that if you work, you should do something you love. Follow your passion, take action, and elevate yourself above that everyday grind. Elevate yourself above that average state of mind.
Walking through crowded Times Square  Look left, look right, there are billboards everywhere The colors the imagery throws me off beat  One day my designs will plaster these streets
Blade to skin, my wicked sin My vision dims, the rush begins. Hidden reminders of my pain, Red teardrops stream down like rain. Winding lines across my wrist My flirtation with Deaths kiss.
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