How is it his memory can come back?
It haunts me,
I'm tired of listening,
listening and doing.
It's like a curse.
something I can't control,
But i can.
He tells me, I listen.
So what if i do it?
What's the worst that can happen?
His voice is like satin.
Soft, black satin.
His heart bears no such comfort.
It's like ice; cold and hard.
That's why i'm scared of what he can make me do. . .
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"I'm sick and, I'm twisted. I'm broken, you can't fix it."