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sickening
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Vain commodities of a life of idiots Dare I be the only one who feels? I know this is not true, dare I be the only one who tears? Internally screaming for separation And the forever knowledge of our differences Am I alone? All too alone. Am I vain to call myself deep? No, for deep I am compared to your sparkly pens Hours spent on your hair And utter self-absorption Sickening hatred of a life laid out for me Sickening hatred of me for which life is laid out for. | ![]() | ![]() |
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