Of all the people in the world, I thought you'd be different but you see that's where I lost it. almost all of us get deceived by thinking about someone as a different person than the average human but eventually, this world is probably nothing but monotony, and even though everyone is striving to prove that they are different, at the end of the day they are not. we are all the same. we are all capable of hurting each other.
Ever since I met you, I walk with my heart in one hand and an ancient dagger in the other. Blood dripping off, leaving marks, they'd be tough to wash faint rusty stains will linger forever if not crimson and the brown tint will also float amidst the hazel sea --------------------- I don't recognize the figure that stares back at me in the mirror anymore so many lies lies and lies --------------------- I drew my old home today tried to transfer everything on paper because I am forgetting the details details of the only building I called home with all my heart the heart that I carry in my hand now with blood dripping I think some of the details dripped there as I made room for the details of your existence I couldn't remember how long the window from the dining room to the courtyard was and which shelf were the books on was it the middle one or the last one I think there was a vase with pink flowers in the middle one like the flowers growing...

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