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Lace on my thighs and fringe around my neck,
more is revealed than the flowing crimson blood.
Bleeding deeper and deeper with every slowed breath.

Deeper than the girls I see with their shoulders against the wall,
the dream girls with their purple hair and tattered tights.
My neck growing saturated with strawberry nightmares,
but at least they like my tattoos.

I feel the black cats circling my ankles,
cries of hunger and any form of normalcy or stability.
It feels familiar, like a hymn from my childhood
throbbing between my ears.

Overlooking other's carnage is easy, until it's your own.

I don't know what this means, but it comforts me.
It's not difficult to go against the crowd
if you have a precedence for doing so

Pushing back on bandwagoning
is often a bandwagon activity

Making all decisions as the exact opposite of the crowd
is still allowing the crowd to decide what you do

It isn't very hard to beat the status quo
but it is to beat your personal precedence

Always going against the crowd
isn't any better than always going with it

The real challenge comes in
making every decision for yourself based on truth

Not going against the crowd
but ignoring it entirely
~much love
I do not love all the words you say
I have finally found one flaw in you
I hope you understand my critique
I stumble on repetitive insults you spew

That's all you do wrong
There is just no other fault
I let you shout, release your anger
I despise each verbal assault

Used to hold thoughts inside
Opinions I was too scared to express
Been putting expectation on my shoulders
Change my life or cave under overwhelming stress

Speeding from surprise struggles
You attempt to control your violent rage
I want badly to erase heavy words
Eternally printed on life's page

"I hate you so much right now." You glared
Hearing that directed at me hurt like hell
There are many sentences you could have used
That is the one you chose to yell

My ears weathered sharp remarks
Shrapnel searing through my drums
With every passing second you seem uglier
I am riddles with holes and an ache that never numbs

I am so worried there is truth in your shouting
I don't know how much honesty is hidden in your anger
You are not the easiest book to read
Sometimes I feel as if I'm talking to a stranger

I am beginning to believe you do detest me now
Difficult as it is for me to admit
I know you love me, but I fear not enough
The hatred is growing, I don't know how to stop it.
When things are good they are amazing but ehen they are bad they are awful. I have never said I hate you to you, at least not yet. You have no idea how it feels.

— The End —