One heart beats alone in the middle of the night, searching and looking for the match, the other half of a bleeding soul. Trial and defeat, no triumph as far as the eye can see. Ha, no one will love the twisted heart like I. For I am the twisted heart. I care for others more than thyself, though I seem to hurt more than I heal. Why is this? Who knows. HA! Like I will ever know. In many cases like this I would rather one hate me compared to the pain that is accompanying the words and deeds. Why won’t my wish be granted? Maybe I don’t truly wish it. But even then, wouldn’t it be easier? Sounds like me doesn’t it…Always looking for the easier way out of things. If one would hate me I would not have to face the scars that I am etching on their heart. Is it really worth it? Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me, TELL ME!
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