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Swore that would be the last time I let you take a scalpel to my brain, said:
I will never speak to you again
Lies are your first language, manipulation your second
Even I have a final straw, a last chance, a turning back
Now scream curses and claims of innocence all you like
Choke on your self-pity, rot in your narcissistic god-complex
Every day from now until the end, I will have nothing to say to you
About the Creator
Poppy
poetry in progress
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