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#imokaywithit
I used to think the mirror lied that maybe all the praise was noise, all the sharpness in my smile just armor for a frightened voice. But then I watched the room bend toward me— eyes orbiting like desperate moons, every laugh waiting for my permission, every silence begging for my ruin. And I understood. Not with guilt, not with horror, but with relief. They call it narcissism like it’s a sickness, a cracked thing, a flaw stitched underneath the skin. But I have never felt more whole. I like the hunger in my chest, the way ambition tastes metallic on my tongue. I like knowing confidence can sound like a threat when spoken by the right person. Maybe I am cruel. Maybe I enjoy winning too much, enjoy watching people shrink while I become something untouchable. But evil is just a word people use for someone who stopped apologizing for taking up space. Now I know what I am— a fire that finally learned it was never meant to keep others warm. And honestly, there’s comfort in that. Because once you stop fearing what darkness lives inside you, there’s suddenly nothing left that can hold you back.
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May 11
May 11, 2026 at 10:13 AM UTC
What they call a "Flaw"
Deep within under the flesh of this vessel beneath the sinew and muscle bone and marrow she stirs. I can feel her and I must coax her out with familiarity. So into the depths I go d    o       w           n d    o       w           n d    o       w           n to find her to find myself oh daughter of smoke and nightmares.
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Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 12:35 PM UTC
Self