post-it note confessions, left on your refrigerator door

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Never again will our souls intertwine
Even if our fingers do, out of lack of self-control
Never again will i know what to call you
Your real name is a secret i was never worthy of sharing
But in my worthlessness you found a willing test-subject
And in your empty chest i found a deadly game
But this season of masochism has come to an end for me
I’ve got demons to bury and growing up to do
Though i know you’re still stuck, swimming in your dirty fishbowl
I’m covering up my bruises and tattoos and leaving this ghost town
Don’t blame me for my brokenness and i won’t blame you for the mess
I trusted you. my mistake
So sorry, the tip of your blade broke off into my spine
Can i pay to have that fixed, too?

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