Being right all the time is often not a blessing.

Or maybe it is, it's just one that comes with a heavy heart pre-requisite.

I see the words typed between the lies and it's the grossest most dehumanizing thing I have ever had the misfortune of encountering.

I have decided pretending is not my style.

I have already started packing up the memories in boxes to throw into a raging river.

I love with purity and I refuse to accept a fate where I am not treated with the same earnest respect as I give.

I tend to the wounds with paper and pen so the scab can heal before I fall again.

It's obvious why I only want you doggy-style, I can't stand to see you seeing someone else's love to defile.

I have to work double to keep up my esteem cuz your monster cock feeds off the supple meat of my dreams.

Guess you thought I'd kill to be the joke-er
Wild card- grate-ful to be anybody's face playing poke-her

But does that mean you want me to try the way that you like it?
As you wish- I see your heart's breaking- it's what you wanted right bitch?
 
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