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I wasn’t in the right mind to start my killing spree because those people couldn’t remove themselves from my life so it came to the hard part.
Time to end the life that came to a stop when my hands and words were the only things that were holding me together.
Time to remove the mask that caused my facade to be see through.
I cut my own words into pieces because they were lies.
I’m not ugly, I’m not a waste of time and space.
I am beautiful and I used to have my heart on my sleeve and not in my hand where it needed to be.
Someone told me that everything that came from my mouth, and every action I take, matters in the heart of the one who led me into the path.
My heart is tough and has so much to speak for but the path is weak to travel to my lips.
To roll off and make a point to leave a mark on someone’s heart.
To be an imprint and to be held.
But how do I do that if I am being held down by my anxiousness?
Now tell me oh, dear, one, are we facing?
Are we pacing from side to side to find a place that makes us happy to the point we are walking on needles?
Needles that pierce our confidence.
Then we have those people who like to come in through the door and leave like there was no way out in the first place.
Causing the damage of foul play.
The days where I just want to through my happiness right out the window; because I lost all I loved dear.
But you can’t change the plans that were written.
You write the chapter but you can’t go back and change a page that was already read.
Now the pain I hold on my shoulders used to run down my arm and run off my hand like blood.
Now I hold my strength and carry on with closed wounds and a heavy heart that likes to drain and refill.
An easily fooled heart he doesn’t love me.
He doesn’t care for me the way I want him to.
What if he does love me?
What if he does care for me the way I want him to.
No lust, just pure love.
Now to my killing spree, it has ended and now I’m left empty handed.