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I look at you and I see so much you have hidden from others and the world.All your pain, the untold fears, the scars and even the thought of deathhas plagued your mind once upon a time.I speak to you looking in your eyes,
Yes, we live to die. And die to live. It was no surprise when Persephone ate that pomegranate. She did it. She lived. Her mother held the innocence of her child, but only to suffer
So I ask, what good is a picture, that doesn't speak? What good is a mouth, if it is only used to devour? Then I proceed to ask, what good is a "man" who knows not, when to hold his tongue?
The temptation is seductive and alluring. The feeling rages baitingly. Fighting it feels for naught. It’s enticing rewards disproportionate to the cost.
To my dearest Bewildered gem in which I desire. Your ignorance of my existence burns in my stomach like fire. To want, but not to have what you desire so deeply, attention craved by one you want so badly.
I’m just a phase slipping through with no destination. Is this important? because you let me wander with no significant placement. Me… A phase? And phases end…
She was at a crossroads. Yeah it sounded clique, it sounded ordinary, but this, this cross was unbearable. Unhinging her being, unwinding her very morals and character.