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constant
I wear my battle wounds with great pride,
Just when i think they`re healed,I grab a knife and tear the fuckers open again. Sadistic and masochistic,I like to make myself hurt,I like to see myself hurt. Bloods so pretty when youve made it pour by your own hand. I finger the warm red wetness,admiring its texture and the way it paints my skin. If anything in life could be a constant,let it be this. |
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