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Pink Sundays

This isn't one of my normal poems
My intentions are pure and I'll always care for you
The delusions you've made around yourself
Is the layers that I keep pulling away

I'll bleed out for you
I'll die for you
It means nothing to you does it?
I keep matching with blood blisters on my feet
It's not enough evidence until you kill me

So cut me like a hog
My last dying words will be the words 
You need because I could never hate you
I love you and it's kills you 
So pull the gun out and blow me away 
If I'm killing you then I don't want to live 

If love is based on how much pain
You'll go through for someone
Then I'd be Mr Right
I'm a walking disaster that can't be fixed

🌷(2)

◄ Relapsing, Pure Misery

The Black Annis ►

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