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AthousandMidnightEpiphanies
AthousandMidnightEpiphanies
20/F/Indian A moment, but mostly nonexistential could have beens / Twitter: @inkedpapers
You smile- And it's like a thousand suns- Breaking through the clouds, Like somewhere inside An eclipse came undone. Like slowly, but surely, All the oceans in my lungs Evaporated And the sky rushed To take its stead; An unsaid prayer being answered. Your fingers- They leave a trail Of goosebumps Down my neck. Oh, what a tease! First ruffle my hair And tuck at the heartstrings Only to wrap them again, Under your fist; The only order, I'll obey. Your lap- Never I thought, Love could be a landscape. Or how being crouched To fit all of me Into one space To be held by you - Would put my spine at ease, Or your heart will conspire And beat all these stale Clichés into my ears; A welcome isolation. Groaning up, I wake, In a dim room With your phantom, fleeing presence. Same teasing smile, Same chaste eyes And same flesh But though he had your face, He was not you- Just a projection Of my brain To put my aching heart To rest
0
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 2:45 PM UTC
Afterglow.
I bleed in silence, in Abandoned cathedrals, Monasteries, and holy Shrines. I have looked for you, Begged the grand idols, Visited crumbling walls Of burnt out cities, And antiquities - All the places they told me You had been. My eyes see red But I'm blue, And there's a bruise On my knee- A blend of both. My lips no longer move in prayers My eyes have no tales to tell- But my poems scream And I live - on a middle ground Between the two -a whimper on nights, A sad smile during days. You're not coming for the rescue, are you? I ache and long, now More than I can love But for what? Is it you? I never could commit suicide, But I killed myself, every moment, nonetheless, Till I heard the rhythm of that heavenly call In your footsteps And how you filled even the silences between us With grace And I was seen, and I could see And I was loved with a love That I could accept. If our love had two colors, It'd be red and blue Like any God, You came with your own set of rules. Passionate red, that you brought And the blues that I always carry Red and blue icy veins - With the same emotions flowing through. But you were taken away too. And now I'm neither red, nor blue But despondent brown The color of the dirt, the only thing Separating me and you. You're not coming back, are you? I walk on, I don't rest and I don't sleep. How can there be a God if there's no justice? And the moon is not blue with sadness; Nor does it cry with me. And the stars are just as oblivious and distant. And the sun, well, it never bothered to shine on any of us. I see a world now, as it is, Stripped of meaning and all its metaphorical use. If I could be colored, I'd choose red and blue- Burning bright with a frigid determination. To save the soul, Sometimes you must destroy its vessel And when a world dies, its gods must die along. None of you came, so I had to come to you.
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Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 8:33 AM UTC
You're not coming, are you?
I bleed in silence, in Abandoned cathedrals, Monasteries, and holy Shrines. I have looked for you, Begged the grand idols, Visited crumbling walls Of burnt out cities, And antiquities - All the places they told me You had been. My eyes see red But I'm blue, And there's a bruise On my knee- A blend of both. My lips no longer move in prayers My eyes have no tales to tell- But my poems scream And I live - on a middle ground Between the two -a whimper on nights, A sad smile during days. You're not coming for the rescue, are you? I ache and long, now More than I can love But for what? Is it you? I never could commit suicide, But I killed myself, every moment, nonetheless, Till I heard the rhythm of that heavenly call In your footsteps And how you filled even the silences between us With grace And I was seen, and I could see And I was loved with a love That I could accept. If our love had two colors, It'd be red and blue Like any God, You came with your own set of rules. Passionate red, that you brought And the blues that I always carry Red and blue icy veins - With the same emotions flowing through. But you were taken away too. And now I'm neither red, nor blue But despondent brown The color of the dirt, the only thing Separating me and you. You're not coming back, are you? I walk on, I don't rest and I don't sleep. How can there be a God if there's no justice? And the moon is not blue with sadness; Nor does it cry with me. And the stars are just as oblivious and distant. And the sun, well, it never bothered to shine on any of us. I see a world now, as it is, Stripped of meaning and all its metaphorical use. If I could be colored, I'd choose red and blue- Burning bright with a frigid determination. To save the soul, Sometimes you must destroy its vessel And when a world dies, its gods must die along. None of you came, so I had to come to you.
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70
Sun dissolves into swirls of hues All over the sky. This twilight, I realised How I feel partly like funerals And partly like a sunrise Love child of a story -Of too soon And too late. Maybe I should write a manual On me, for myself. Darkness hesitates At my doorstep- As if reminding itself That it has got nothing to lose But then again, It is not like I have anything it could take. So we sit in silence- an impasse Till darkness becomes me And its, I become. Sunlight dances Upon me- Shattered all over the floor. Let's see who wins This tug of war My brain - Or my heart? As I sit there- casualty of a war I never did start. So I break Every shimmering surface Of windows, and mirrors In my house And ducttape the ones I can't. Why do they reflect all this light When not an ounce, I can soak I know who I'm (or do I?) Can they show me What I want? (and how to get there?)
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
I feel sad pls validate me
I may be the monster chasing you in your sleep, now, or all the sea shells that you collected as a kid and eventually lost. I may be just another blurred face in your dreams, or, the first touch of sunlight knocking at your windowpane. Or maybe, I'm just a dusty album thrown carelessly up in your attic- not useless enough to be dismissed, but useless enough for you to no longer know what to do with me. (Or I'm just a jammed door whose key you still keep with you in your pocket, your footsteps halt in front of me once in a while, but the moment passes and so do you) Or, maybe 10 years from now, in your mind and heart, I no longer register at all. You and I, we are the children of the same paradox. A fragile thread hung above a horizon-less sea. Could we get what we wanted while being who we are? Do I not belong as much to the thing i left behind as I do to the future that I'm seeking? How to acknowledge your hurt without having to apologize for who I am? Can I ever find home if my heart is always curious about what's beyond? How could it have been love if I had to keep breaking pieces of myself to make some accommodations for you? Why, after all this time, it still feels like it was? Could you really find love in the arms where you lost yourself? And this is what you're to me. 5 years from then, you're still the headache I get at 2 am and the bloodshot eyes. The thought processes running in circle. You're the human embodiment of my life-i could create something with you, something out of you but I let the idea of it consume me. And sitting underneath the ocean, before oblivion hits me, I imagine asking to your fractured reflection- have you ever wanted to be the universe - something so grand- that you settled down in this abyss- and became nothing.
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 10:52 AM UTC
Pls don't forget me
I may be the monster chasing you in your sleep, now, or all the sea shells that you collected as a kid and eventually lost. I may be just another blurred face in your dreams, or, the first touch of sunlight knocking at your windowpane. Or maybe, I'm just a dusty album thrown carelessly up in your attic- not useless enough to be dismissed, but useless enough for you to no longer know what to do with me. (Or I'm just a jammed door whose key you still keep with you in your pocket, your footsteps halt in front of me once in a while, but the moment passes and so do you) Or, maybe 10 years from now, in your mind and heart, I no longer register at all. You and I, we are the children of the same paradox. A fragile thread hung above a horizon-less sea. Could we get what we wanted while being who we are? Do I not belong as much to the thing i left behind as I do to the future that I'm seeking? How to acknowledge your hurt without having to apologize for who I am? Can I ever find home if my heart is always curious about what's beyond? How could it have been love if I had to keep breaking pieces of myself to make some accommodations for you? Why, after all this time, it still feels like it was? Could you really find love in the arms where you lost yourself? And this is what you're to me. 5 years from then, you're still the headache I get at 2 am and the bloodshot eyes. The thought processes running in circle. You're the human embodiment of my life-i could create something with you, something out of you but I let the idea of it consume me. And sitting underneath the ocean, before oblivion hits me, I imagine asking to your fractured reflection- have you ever wanted to be the universe - something so grand- that you settled down in this abyss- and became nothing.
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4
My petals were withering, The butterflies turned into wasps. An oppressive silence- Weighing down on my conscience And the fingertips - used to drawing sunrises -compelled  to write eulogies instead. Of Chapped lips and vacant eyes. And how the autumn had caught up to us. And I remembered, With an aching guilt- How I had not even played in the rain, Not much, not at all. My words had rusted, My voice- cracked, and unfamiliar Even to my own ears. The summer long poems that I wrote in love Were set ablaze, To help me survive a winter without you. Oh, when I said our love would keep us warm This is not exactly how i had it planned. And you did not get to read even a word. One always thinks they have time. But we did not. Not then, and definitely not now. As a child, I grew up wanting a lot from myself -even the world, if I were to be honest. Somewhere along the line, All I wanted was for this all to not hurt. And somehow the polar opposites are more alike Than I'd have thought. 'Cause you see, people who want a bit of everything Are very close to wanting nothing in particular, not much. And I wish I had learnt to differentiate Of when to sharpen my sword and when to use my pen Cause now I'm down to my last petal And all you have is a blue splotch on your shirt.
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Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
Petals
To the boy who makes my skin feel like home again, You held out your hand and stood there patiently while I warily placed my hand in yours and maybe incidentally some part of my heart too. You so gently removed his imprints off me that I did not even notice till I was standing in front of my mirror, glowing, no longer looking away from my reflection but smiling back at it. Thank you. Thank you for having the thoughtfulness to wipe your fingerprints off before leaving too. You know I never could understand how people use standing alone in the rain as a metaphor for sadness, it's not. It's liberating. And that's how I feel about you. You were the drizzle that set me free. To the boy who does not make butterflies somersault in my veins, You were smirking at something clever you said at my expanse and I was looking back at you calmly not the least bothered by the slight blush crawling up to my cheeks. Because that's what you were to me. My anchor. My calmness. My life jacket. Thank you for teaching me that most hurricanes and people are only looking for ways to self destruct and I need not be the one to put myself in their ways in hopes to save them when I myself have been drowning. Thank you for handing me back the anchor. Now I carry it with me and toss it down whenever I feel the flow is too strong for me. You loved me enough to make me love myself, but not enough for me to be yours more than I was mine. I don't know why they don't teach about self love or how we owe ourselves some kindness too. But you did. I have not been this shade of love in a long while and I don't ever want to be anything else. To the boy who makes me smile when I'm with him but does not steal it away when he is gone, You make me feel things in slow motion like the way a tortoise comes out of its shell, like the blooming of a bud, like a letter hidden among the pages of a history book no one is ever going to bother to read and all the other soft things. Thank you. I'm the love in all those soft things. I've the love i need the most. And so I smile. And I write myself poetry just as much as I write for you. I dance alone when you're gone just as enthusiastically as I do when I'm standing on your feet. I don't understand how I could have ever thought that love was love only when you loved with all the parts of you; saving none for yourselves cause it's not. Love is taking care of yourself and being the sun to your universe but letting him know he is the constellation who you love to read and embrace every night before you fall asleep. Love is hand you want to hold while you're reigning your life. To the boy who kept his distance while I sulked on the floor but became my backbone when I was teaching myself how to walk, You told me you fall apart and you think you're done but that's when the work begins. I realised how you don't need people when you're down as much as you do when you're trying to get up after falling down a time too many to count. But you were there. And i needed to understand that not every fragility was breakable. Some relented and preserved. And it's not about how long you stay on the floor but with how much fervor you stand back, again and again after being kicked. Thank you. I'm going to carry my fragile heart like a crown shielded by logic. It's okay to be brilliant and kind. You don't have to rust your shine cause you're blinding someone. To the boy who makes my skin feel like home again, to the boy who does not make butterflies somersault in my veins, to the boy who makes Me smile when I'm with him but does not steal it away when he is gone, to the boy who was there holding me up when I was trying to be more than I have ever been before Thank you. ❤
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Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 4:21 PM UTC
Boy pt 1
To the boy who makes my skin feel like home again, You held out your hand and stood there patiently while I warily placed my hand in yours and maybe incidentally some part of my heart too. You so gently removed his imprints off me that I did not even notice till I was standing in front of my mirror, glowing, no longer looking away from my reflection but smiling back at it. Thank you. Thank you for having the thoughtfulness to wipe your fingerprints off before leaving too. You know I never could understand how people use standing alone in the rain as a metaphor for sadness, it's not. It's liberating. And that's how I feel about you. You were the drizzle that set me free. To the boy who does not make butterflies somersault in my veins, You were smirking at something clever you said at my expanse and I was looking back at you calmly not the least bothered by the slight blush crawling up to my cheeks. Because that's what you were to me. My anchor. My calmness. My life jacket. Thank you for teaching me that most hurricanes and people are only looking for ways to self destruct and I need not be the one to put myself in their ways in hopes to save them when I myself have been drowning. Thank you for handing me back the anchor. Now I carry it with me and toss it down whenever I feel the flow is too strong for me. You loved me enough to make me love myself, but not enough for me to be yours more than I was mine. I don't know why they don't teach about self love or how we owe ourselves some kindness too. But you did. I have not been this shade of love in a long while and I don't ever want to be anything else. To the boy who makes me smile when I'm with him but does not steal it away when he is gone, You make me feel things in slow motion like the way a tortoise comes out of its shell, like the blooming of a bud, like a letter hidden among the pages of a history book no one is ever going to bother to read and all the other soft things. Thank you. I'm the love in all those soft things. I've the love i need the most. And so I smile. And I write myself poetry just as much as I write for you. I dance alone when you're gone just as enthusiastically as I do when I'm standing on your feet. I don't understand how I could have ever thought that love was love only when you loved with all the parts of you; saving none for yourselves cause it's not. Love is taking care of yourself and being the sun to your universe but letting him know he is the constellation who you love to read and embrace every night before you fall asleep. Love is hand you want to hold while you're reigning your life. To the boy who kept his distance while I sulked on the floor but became my backbone when I was teaching myself how to walk, You told me you fall apart and you think you're done but that's when the work begins. I realised how you don't need people when you're down as much as you do when you're trying to get up after falling down a time too many to count. But you were there. And i needed to understand that not every fragility was breakable. Some relented and preserved. And it's not about how long you stay on the floor but with how much fervor you stand back, again and again after being kicked. Thank you. I'm going to carry my fragile heart like a crown shielded by logic. It's okay to be brilliant and kind. You don't have to rust your shine cause you're blinding someone. To the boy who makes my skin feel like home again, to the boy who does not make butterflies somersault in my veins, to the boy who makes Me smile when I'm with him but does not steal it away when he is gone, to the boy who was there holding me up when I was trying to be more than I have ever been before Thank you. ❤
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10
The rustling of autumn leaves, the snow dissipating in your palm, the fluttering beats of your heart as he comes close, a hundred Tsunamis clashing in your stomach as he whispers your name and kisses you soft. The first time you realised you were in love. The faint humming of windchimes, the echoes of the winds amongst the mountain top, the homely smell of your favourite dish, the Handwritten love notes that are never exchanged, the subtle glances, his breath fogging up your spectacles. the feeling of invinciblity. The first time you ever believed. The rush shimmering down to something warm, something more permanent, like the gentle embrace of your bed after a long way back home, like the quiet after a chaotic stormy night, the steady way your hand finds his as if out of habit, the ease at which his name rolls of your tongue, all your favourite poetry books piled up on his table, late diary entries with half the words crossed out, mornings with his favorite chocolate shake alongside your espresso. The feeling that nothing could ever go wrong. The arriving rustle of thunderstorms, the sea wrecking the sand castles we made with so much love, the rain pounding on my window, the shattering sound of glasswares that only I could hear. The first time I realised love was not always beautiful. Abandoned buildings standing tall, an unplanned nap in wintery afternoon under the sun, the waning of flood slowly from your heart, the first intake of air after you make it to the surface, the sun fighting through the darkness every dawn. Love is not perfect but it will do. The last murmured I love you before you fall asleep, dust particles dancing to the beat of sunlight, short pecks on cheeks, every thing frighteningly falling into a routine, fingers in my hair unknotting my stress, a comfort so overwhelming it shadows the love we felt, eye contacts and a sudden coming undone, naked souls stripped off all layers like the first time, unravelled by just one gaze. The first time I understood love is both- the grand confessions and the simple act of being there, and neither and so much more, all at the same time. Spirited laughter playing in the background, the walls full of memories in frame, the breeze slowly singling lullabies, the fading music after the song has ended, a reminiscence of something so old you can't tell if it's a dream, sunlight dancing on the leaves. A book in my lap with you next to me. I still have not figured life out but with you I can finally live it. Instead of watching the seasons change from behind my window sill, I feel it change within me.
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Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 7:51 AM UTC
Seasons.
The rustling of autumn leaves, the snow dissipating in your palm, the fluttering beats of your heart as he comes close, a hundred Tsunamis clashing in your stomach as he whispers your name and kisses you soft. The first time you realised you were in love. The faint humming of windchimes, the echoes of the winds amongst the mountain top, the homely smell of your favourite dish, the Handwritten love notes that are never exchanged, the subtle glances, his breath fogging up your spectacles. the feeling of invinciblity. The first time you ever believed. The rush shimmering down to something warm, something more permanent, like the gentle embrace of your bed after a long way back home, like the quiet after a chaotic stormy night, the steady way your hand finds his as if out of habit, the ease at which his name rolls of your tongue, all your favourite poetry books piled up on his table, late diary entries with half the words crossed out, mornings with his favorite chocolate shake alongside your espresso. The feeling that nothing could ever go wrong. The arriving rustle of thunderstorms, the sea wrecking the sand castles we made with so much love, the rain pounding on my window, the shattering sound of glasswares that only I could hear. The first time I realised love was not always beautiful. Abandoned buildings standing tall, an unplanned nap in wintery afternoon under the sun, the waning of flood slowly from your heart, the first intake of air after you make it to the surface, the sun fighting through the darkness every dawn. Love is not perfect but it will do. The last murmured I love you before you fall asleep, dust particles dancing to the beat of sunlight, short pecks on cheeks, every thing frighteningly falling into a routine, fingers in my hair unknotting my stress, a comfort so overwhelming it shadows the love we felt, eye contacts and a sudden coming undone, naked souls stripped off all layers like the first time, unravelled by just one gaze. The first time I understood love is both- the grand confessions and the simple act of being there, and neither and so much more, all at the same time. Spirited laughter playing in the background, the walls full of memories in frame, the breeze slowly singling lullabies, the fading music after the song has ended, a reminiscence of something so old you can't tell if it's a dream, sunlight dancing on the leaves. A book in my lap with you next to me. I still have not figured life out but with you I can finally live it. Instead of watching the seasons change from behind my window sill, I feel it change within me.
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8
I have these abandoned cities inside of me, Named on the people that once used to love me. All the roads and the towers are devoid of company- No one there remembers my face. So, pls, understand how hard it is for me to answer your trivial "tell me more about yourself" I have been held before by a gaze as soft as yours, He is a stranger now, like you'll be too. I have been desired to stay, and been pleaded to go- Both at once. So, pls, understand if I tune you out sometimes and go whichever way the wind blows. I have my hands stained in the color of ink, All these sadness and I don't know what to do with it I have been both- a sad girl and sadness wearing the face of a girl, You pick whoever you like more. But, pls, understand if I can't exactly tell who I'm and what is it that I want. I have been seen - either on the edge; wary of the fall, Or playing in the deep end, till I go blue in the face. Adrenaline is who I court, but I'm married to the caution Till sadness comes to take its claim, and his I become. So, pls, understand if most of the times my eyes have layers upon layers of emotions, but my face is blank. I have made words my eulogy, eulogy my beginnings. I have so many stories to tell, but they demand to be left alone so stubbornly. So quiet and out of place, like the last ray of sun in a twilight sky- I stay still to breathe. So, pls, try to understand this is not poetry but just an attempt to understand my own self?
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 5:30 PM UTC
Pls try to understand
You should have heard the things i did not say   - *i read everything you omitted in your poem.   - you only know as much as i give away.* I know the parts of you you don't  even acknowledge. You should have held me when i was halfway out the door   - *i would have but i did not know how to.   - for a moment, i thought i had lost you, too.* I may be lost right now but you know I'll find you. (Both) **I might not love you right now, But you know I'll be in love w you in all my tomorrows. I might need to get away once in a while, But you'll always be my way back home.** You cut me open, you sew me back   - *i keep running into the love i am trying to forget.   - you look like autumn, you taste like dawn.*   You love me, and, then you don't. Your eyes hold a grudge, your eyes hold warmth   - *the more i give, the less you care.   - but i know you're in there somewhere.*   You only show your emotions when my eyes are closed. (Both) **I might not love you right now, But you know I'll be in love with you in all my tomorrows.**
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC
Marriage.
Marinating wounds, Comfortably numb. It started with fire, It ended ice cold. I was all over him, He was all over me. Hazed memories, I just wanted to not feel. Worsening things, Some thing I keep getting better at. You would not come home, He would not leave me be. He said all the right things, But, oh, i was the wrong girl So empty without you, And he was just there. He was all over me, I was all over him, He left a scar on my neck, Like you gave my heart a dent. Good intentions, Ruined by your interpretations. His eyes were sympathetic, And i just wanted to be held. Lost in the translation, A temporary lapse of judgment. I wanted to love him, But i had yet to unlove you. You were out in the cold, With someone to keep you warm His hands were moving, I laid unfeeling, like a ****** god. His eyes showed hurt, He smiled despite it all Said he knew I never felt that way about him. My heart ached, From the loss of something that could have been I wanted to rip every thing i loved out of you, And find it in him. He said goodbye, I could not say sorry. He lingered on the doorway, I could not get myself to ask him to stay. I burned down the albums, I threw away the cards. I knew i had to run, Before your monsters caught up to me. I knew he forgave me, Like he knew i was willing to forget. He gave me the grace, I lost to you. I am afraid, No one ever taught you how to love. You spend the night in one's arms, And wake with another's name in your thoughts. I wanted to hurt you, I wanted to inflict the pain you gave me, I only hurt myself, And i am the only one to blame. I'll look for redemption, I'll undo what you did.
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 2:38 PM UTC
A mistake.
Marinating wounds, Comfortably numb. It started with fire, It ended ice cold. I was all over him, He was all over me. Hazed memories, I just wanted to not feel. Worsening things, Some thing I keep getting better at. You would not come home, He would not leave me be. He said all the right things, But, oh, i was the wrong girl So empty without you, And he was just there. He was all over me, I was all over him, He left a scar on my neck, Like you gave my heart a dent. Good intentions, Ruined by your interpretations. His eyes were sympathetic, And i just wanted to be held. Lost in the translation, A temporary lapse of judgment. I wanted to love him, But i had yet to unlove you. You were out in the cold, With someone to keep you warm His hands were moving, I laid unfeeling, like a ****** god. His eyes showed hurt, He smiled despite it all Said he knew I never felt that way about him. My heart ached, From the loss of something that could have been I wanted to rip every thing i loved out of you, And find it in him. He said goodbye, I could not say sorry. He lingered on the doorway, I could not get myself to ask him to stay. I burned down the albums, I threw away the cards. I knew i had to run, Before your monsters caught up to me. I knew he forgave me, Like he knew i was willing to forget. He gave me the grace, I lost to you. I am afraid, No one ever taught you how to love. You spend the night in one's arms, And wake with another's name in your thoughts. I wanted to hurt you, I wanted to inflict the pain you gave me, I only hurt myself, And i am the only one to blame. I'll look for redemption, I'll undo what you did.
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