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Make me your art
your game
Make me your leisure
your name

Crystalise me with beauty
drape me
With shackles and chains
until I bleed enough
To cry out your name
It's not the full moon
its the people
who
turn us into
monsters
keep telling me how to
Act
Speak
Write
see how long until
the house you built
burns
to the f*ckingĀ ground
house is symbolic for self worth
Don't become stuck
Reminiscing
Years will pass
before you realize
it's the present you've been missing
The decision was final
But it wasn't mine.

An empty womb
An empty tomb

Not sure if it was their death
or mine?
I slowly start to break down my walls
Little bits of me start pouring out
Swiftly but quickly into the mind of another
They ponder upon the thoughts
And seamlessly put back together the pieces for me
Slowly they do the same
I pack on more emotions and experiences than I can handle
But I feel the connection almost immediately
Every time we establish that connection
Things slowly get deeper
Then I get more invested
The more invested I am, the quicker I am to get attached
With time, I slowly start to pull myself away from people
It's easier to save myself than deal with the trauma
Even then.. slowly do I build the wall back up
To prepare myself just in case someone else comes along
Just so I could do it all over again
I should really stop building walls for the sole purpose of wanting people to break them down.
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