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Damian Mar 2014
They say that they care and call themselves my "brothers"
But this poison that they feed me makes the worse than all the others.

Between all the things they do and all the things they say,
I hide behind this fake smile but I'm really not okay.

Tearing and picking with grimy hands at wounds that just won't heal,
Then condemn me when I cringe, I guess I'm not allowed to feel...

But somehow it's my fault every time
They steal from me
They lie to me
They cheat me
And they beat me
I guess this is what they mean by "family"...
Damian Jun 2014
"I thought of it now, I'll remember it then"
But then I sit down with paper and pen
And the words escape from within my mind
As if my thoughts had been left behind
Then when I quit and abandon my pen
All of my lost words come back again
Bound and determined I return to my seat
But the cycle continues, and I'm in defeat...
Damian Apr 2014
My blade as a brush
I create masterpieces
With a single stroke

— The End —