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some hugs hurt, and some pains comfort.
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fall asleep in my arms and you won’t wake up
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i want to scream i want to rip out my hair i want to be free why can’t i be free?
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at any given moment i am either thinking about my death or the death of someone else
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just repeatedly hit my leg to the point where there is a red mark in front of my mother during an argument and she did not acknowledge it
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if murder bad,,,,, why blood so pretty?
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im so fucking tired of pretending to care about other people
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ever just want to feel someone else’s blood, letting it slide in between your fingers, letting it cling to your skin as though it belongs outside the body it came from
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the way i clown myself into thinking that maybe if i look concerned and say all the usual comforting and concerned things people say when someone is upset then maybe i will actually start caring
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the fact that i will never kill someone is discomforting and somehow unsettling
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i would simply like to see your skin be ripped apart while your pointless tears are swallowed by the blood gushing from the tears in your flesh
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don’t look at the mirror
don’t look at the mirror
don’t look at the mirror
you won’t recognise who’s there
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you ever just feel so much anger and hatred towards a person that for one overpowering, clear, sharp moment you understand how someone could be driven to murder another human being
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