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I am not a virgin, but I am still pure. I am not a warrior, still, I'm fighting a war. Ink against white paper, stained and beautiful. I am an outsider but my heart is still full.
You always linger After you leave, Like coffee stains on paper It's only heart that stands so still But hands and voice still waiver. I'm fine until I see You there Then breath becomes a labor
Echo, you privilege soul Stand by as I pillage your home Watch as they rave your condemnation We have yet to live.
We won the battle. We fought the fight. We rode in saddles Til' the end of the night. The blood was spilled. Boys became men. Innocent tears filled. Their dads, they wouldn't see again.
A Sharpie hanging in the air Taunting me from your fingertips Just the knowledge that it’s there Is enough to put me on edge You laugh as I slip it from your hand Knowing I just let you lure me in