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Kalliope Sep 8
I'm not good with money, a budget never could manage me, I hate when it's sunny, I prefer rain and a breeze.

I can be silent for days on end, can't even bring myself to sing, easily broken yet hard to bend, my mind is a stubborn thing.

Sometimes I get lost way too deep in my thoughts, have fun trying to guide me away, and I'm sensitive too don't yell in my room, it'll just activate the rage.

And God I get mean, inconsiderate and spiteful, with nowhere to lean, I'll feel my anger is rightful.

My hair clogs the drain, it's long and disarray, you won't get my brain, I cry like every other day.

I can't do my makeup, my eyelids don't shine gold, I'll threaten a break up, the second I feel you're cold.

I'll have the last word, everytime we disagree, I don't know if you've heard, but you shouldn't love me.
And Sweet boy I love you
But I'm a real mess
If I focus on the bad
It causes less distress
I can't focus on our good
When I'm trying to lay us to rest

— The End —