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My head is turning, my stomach is churning, my tears are spinning off my nose. My tears onto the page like the blood running from my veins. Words hurt, yours hurt worse though, with no apology, no delay. You know just what to say to cut right through my veins. But you say you spare my arteries because you love me in your own rare way.
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May 21
May 21, 2026 at 12:54 PM UTC
The Little Factory of Red Dye.
My head is turning, my stomach is churning, my tears are spinning off my nose. My tears onto the page like the blood running from my veins. Words hurt, yours hurt worse though, with no apology, no delay. You know just what to say to cut right through my veins. But you say you spare my arteries because you love me in your own rare way.
This piece is about having a soft spot for someone who only utilizes that soft spot with the intent of bruising it.
EveOnLeave
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May 21
May 21, 2026 at 12:54 PM UTC
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