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This thread has been labeled as triggering by the original poster or by a Moderator. Please take this into consideration before continuing to read.
I smell your hostility in the air
and though I cannot catch it because it diffuses in my hand
It takes up space
It become more dominant as I become more withdrawn
If only it was like poison ivy, I would rub it on my hands then touch you
It would depart from the tip of my finger
Arrive to the tip of yours and in an instant
You'd see the pink irritation
You'd feel the harshness of the rash
Too bad you cannot see my clenched teeth, my locked jaws, or my stomach fit to burst
You tell me to stop
And I want to stop too.
Kinda...
If anything I want you to stop first
Stop the torment
Stop the picking on me and I'll stop picking on my skin
Stop living inside of me
Tightening your grip
Till I gasp for air only to breathe your toxic once more
Do you ever get a little bit tired of life
Like you're not really happy but you don't wanna die
Like you're hanging by a thread but you gotta survive
'Cause you gotta survive
If clarity's in death, then why won't this die?
Years of tearing down our banners, you and I
Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first