Pleasure from a Knife CutCleanThis wasn't for me, only for your enjoyment. It has broken into a helping hand. Pleasing myself to think not only you. Myself, and my deserted dreams. Hollow illusions of my imagination. Written on pages simular to my past. Fantasy not willing to last. Bled its way into another unhearted hope. Somehow this blood makes it easier to cope. Wash these lies.Pleasure from a Knife CutClean
Get rid of goodbyes. Murder the wise,
HIDE MY EYES...
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