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i'm telling you now, leave. i'll give you this one warning before i pull out my remington and shoot my lucky bullet straight into your heart. too late my boy, you're a soon to be dead man. and me i'm your death sentence. make your last wish with pursed lips now. i will do whatever i need too, to get you out of this head of mine. i own this brain as tortured and mushy as it is and you're merely trespassing. you're the kid they use to shove into lockers, gone rouge. the kid who's now well, not really a kid at all. you hangout with the jocks these days, go to a school full of yuppies yeah. we all know your type and what you've turned into. your transparent might as well be glass. generic. simple. gross. but that lifestyle changed you into something new and you morphed into something without a name you were weak and this world broke you. that boy i fell in love with all those moons ago is dead now. **oh, well time to go** so here's the door. and there's  your shoes.. don't cut yourself too deep on the barbed wire when you try to fit your pores through that fence actually do maybe then you won't come back and  will have finally learned not to fight fire with fire and fist with fist maybe then you won't haunt the halls in my head or the walk back home   maybe then, maybe. maybe some day.
0
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
mostly ghostly (poltergeist)
i'm telling you now, leave. i'll give you this one warning before i pull out my remington and shoot my lucky bullet straight into your heart. too late my boy, you're a soon to be dead man. and me i'm your death sentence. make your last wish with pursed lips now. i will do whatever i need too, to get you out of this head of mine. i own this brain as tortured and mushy as it is and you're merely trespassing. you're the kid they use to shove into lockers, gone rouge. the kid who's now well, not really a kid at all. you hangout with the jocks these days, go to a school full of yuppies yeah. we all know your type and what you've turned into. your transparent might as well be glass. generic. simple. gross. but that lifestyle changed you into something new and you morphed into something without a name you were weak and this world broke you. that boy i fell in love with all those moons ago is dead now. **oh, well time to go** so here's the door. and there's  your shoes.. don't cut yourself too deep on the barbed wire when you try to fit your pores through that fence actually do maybe then you won't come back and  will have finally learned not to fight fire with fire and fist with fist maybe then you won't haunt the halls in my head or the walk back home   maybe then, maybe. maybe some day.
beanz-and-cheese
Written by
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
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