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I construct stories and lies in my head, Am I an actress or a liar? Telling people lies with so much belief that I begin to believe them myself. I'm a liar with dramatic emotions,
My eyes are sore I imagine the red rims where all the thoughts swim and melt into a dream right before me   And ignore me, the very part that i've buried with the ribbons and the bows and the fury
I define myself by my secrets.  I count them like scar marks or ticks in the sidewalk and cloak myself in them like curtains.  I am stitched into a world of sin, but this design is suiting me. 
Why leave?When the cover of the curtain so soft like satin can hide youAlways hidingBecause the reality of being found out is terrifyingAnd the curtain is soothing
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