abuse
tell me a lie and lie to me again
every time i’ll believe your stupidity
it only becomes fiction when i talk to someone else
i’m okay, i just needed someone else
you aren’t bad, just unhealthy.
my dad likes to do this thing where he speaks near my room
my room has paper-thin walls so i can hear everything
i want to believe he’s not entirely cynical
but he just talks about my negatives, his negatives, and the world’s negatives
it only makes me want to die more
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