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A view through the rain covered window that is my mind. It may be a twisted view.
Rose Gloves
I like to lash out...not at other people, but at myself. I cut apart the last of my sanity like a professional. It's not as fun as it use to be though...because she stops me and I hate that. Hate it with a passion.
She cries, screams, and begs for me to stop myself.

“I love you! Stop it you're killing me! I love you!”
“Love, you only love me because I slash away at my own being. That is truly pathetic...”

She makes me sick...sick with something I cannot understand. I hate that. I left us with so much hate, dear. I am so pathetic...just like her.





 
 
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