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When the dreamer’s dream, where do they go? It’s not that field of yellow flowers. There are no happy endings in this story. To dream is to lie. To lie is to sin.
I find myself awake at this hour. I can’t sleep. Monsters crawl across the floor. Shadows haunt the edges of my vision. Demons hang from the ceiling.
Dear Voices in My Head, How many of you are there? I try to count, but I keep losing track Because once I think I'm done Another voice talks back.
I can't be who you want, Believe me 'cause I've tried. Why can't I be who I want? Why must I change my mind?
You said you didn't like lipstick I didn't wear any But I bit my lip Until it was flushed deep red with blood And tasted better Than your satin skin ever did