it all
you think you find
me small
how dare you suggest that i feel weak? May i remind your pirated statuesque that PAIN is the digging blade that slashes through the foggy canopy which shelters those blissful wondering eyes- empty without the deep color purple of appreciation that lingers around the pupil of He who tastes the fruit of pain.
a life without fault is an undeserving illusion of beauty- as is your reminder that "i am strong".
this
agony
genuinely, fearfully striking agony towards your assumption of my weakness.
i am not the screaming soul, batting my lashes at the world, mooching for attention.
no one gets a hold of my inner skin like that of an arrogant soul who truly believes i deserve their pity.
i promise- im OK. i just like to write about shit ....jezus.
music:
xoo
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