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I read the text and then blocked you
then I picked up a blade and put it to my wrist
I see my phone ringing its my sister
I pick up and set down the blade
I picked a marker and made the lines on my arm
the lines i was going to make with you
Maybe a different day
Is violence
the intention
and action
to harm other people?

Is the target of violence
joyful and happy?
Ask someone who's been robbed at knifepoint?
Ask a wife who’s being bashed by her husband?
Ask a child who’s being beaten-up by a bully?

Is the doer of violence
joyful and happy?
Ask a person barking toxic speech?
Ask a mother who’s beating her child?
Ask a robber confined in prison for many years?
Reality was my nightmare,
               dreams were my solace.

I was real within them.
Drown out the laughs with your own internal screams.
Now you wish for that undervalued state of oblivion.
Angel grabbing, pulling at my soul
Yet, unbeknownst to her, I sold it years ago
With everything I say and
With everything I do
I try to be so right but
All I want to do is wrong
Slowly evanescing into flames of red
Into misty, hazy shades of blue
Descending into Hell
Forbidden from ascending into bliss
Cause why would I want to go up to Heaven
When everyone I know is going down to Devil’s Paradise
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