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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Supernatural · #1933865
What happens when you two many. What can it do to you. What cannot it do.
I have always had two many.

I should be dead.
I should not life.
I should cry for pain and torment
I should scream for release
I should be ran out
I should never come back
I should not even
exsist.

Yet, I do.

When I heard my child would die.
Just lick windows as my man at the time said
as he walked. I felt nothing but
wonder and beauty.
When he arrived and I gazed long into his bad
blue eyes. I could see... Him
I couldn't live with the pain of... Him.
So I threw him away. Lit a
cig, and walked.
I still sometimes think of him. While other men cry realease for a tenner.
Where is he
Now...

Mother...

I whispered under my lips.
the seasons
lived... Then dies before I had the chance to
name them my names for pets.
Play with them, the woman said.
No. I'm two different for them. That I do
Know. So I drew, and drew, and drew. Drew
how I saw the world. Brightly lit with the colours of a decayed dog. Feeding it's feted fickle surroundings.
Dying... So others can live.
Sacrifice in the greatest form.

I'm two much for them. It's almost like I can hear them in my head.
Wishing me away
Wanting me to not know everything
they do. Knowing that Simon is going to rape the blond bimbo he calls her. Knowing that
Kate has HIV... But the loving lust within
her
is just too much.

I cannot help it. It's just two natural for me.
something that I've had an eye for
since... I can remember.

But now. I walk, to find a place
I can call
my own.
Two live peacefully
In my own piece of heaven.
Two cut into my head

Two talk
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