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Jul 2016
You're as cold as a statue pleading **** me so he'll touch you while I'm forced to watch you moan his name screaming out with pain I left you don't say you're sorry I'm already bleeding from your name being called from across the room trying to run at a dead end I beg you to block me like paper I'm torn.
I hate you but, darling I love you.
Don't dial my number and tell me you're happy or talking to him. I'm better off with this picture of torture I paint for myself on the walls of regret. Forgive me while I pull the trigger.
Nathan Wischropp
Written by
Nathan Wischropp  Springfield
(Springfield)   
495
   --- and Maddii Lloyd
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