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i love to hate my life in a good way!
Was there ever more words
that could hurt or heal
was there ever consideration
before saying what you feel
you speak sharply like a knife
with intentions to carve
but how much blood and tears must shed
before you realize what you've done
do you ever stop to see whats gone wrong

take this knife you hold over me
watch as it slides across the skin
cutting deap and tearing to shreads
but yet theres still a look of disapointment
was this not enough?
soon there will be nothing left to see

who would just sit under this point
with such pain caused
to give up would feel better than this
to leave would leave you with nothing
and nothing else to come

now take this knife you so easily use
and see for yourself the damage that you have caused
blinding rage, roaring animosity, nothing is excuse enough
and will drive you from your loved

I was here to heal you,
but how could i even heal myself, with such constant strikes
you leave no hope, in me or for you
when I am gone what is left for you?
keep striking that blade,
eventually, you will see the mess you made
or can you just no longer feel?





 
 
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