I smuggle my dreams into the working world in a satchel held under my arm. When the others turn around I pull down the zipper and bury my head inside. Where as the world cannot fit inbetween two covers, mine can, and it will.
this is my inferiority complex, my ego defense, my self loathing and my jealousy speaking. This is my drug addiction my self destruction and my wavering emotion taking hold and spewing out the thick black oil in my heart
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& i never meant to hurt you, over and over. What does it matter because you can't read this and it's never going to mean a thing. I'm at the peak of my guilt regarding the female gender, I can't think rationaly.