now there wil be no mistaking...
This is feeding what I am...
It's like salt poured into a deep, infected wound.
It's the type of pain you really dig and long for.
I've always been insecure to open up and show love.
Some pretty girl with long hair, some bald guy writhing...
rejection...
The kind that's self induced.
The tongue that's bitten through.
The nauseating stab.
Is feeding what I am.
A short fuse...
Rejection...
Takes life away from eyes.
Will give you to the skies.
It makes me more than a man.
Is drowning what I am.
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