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Rated: E · Monologue · Dark · #1964653
Taking inspiration from graphic novels tried to get inside the head of a psychotic lover
Love Lore






You taught me songs, I memorized all of them. I looked closely at the future, even beautiful, always. One of the most beautiful places. On The Way.Â

I listened to those songs.  I still listen.

I gave myself a pain? Yes. To Death.

Hunger and sleep? Even now, I smile to sacrifice my body.Â

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But look what you find true now, at the end of a reason. I lied to you.  What I chose to keep in this miraculous cabinet of my head! Little broken things, sad melody that we play with over and over.

The branches of the trees scar deep into my body as I walk down the boulevard. And now? Now I'm giving up forever. All that you gave  me, it's all yours now!

My wound grows even deeper,  so maybe don't look at me for now, and then someday  you never will.Â

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Find yourself a life, hold on.Â

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The wind rises, soft and warm and almost weightless. She feels like a sweet promise that brings tears to my eyes. She tells me that everything will be all right while I wait to be hanged, In my room alone. 

I saw an Angel kissing you, you see; but you are going to say I lied to these people.

The fire. It'll burn us both. It'll kill us both. There's no place in this world for our kind of fire.

And as soon as you knew, you ought to get out of the room. Was it my eyes that spoke of the love?

You need to go out and feel fresh air; but since the moment you walk out the door, waiting in ambush is the weather. On the side of the road while walking between the scattered rain scraps had been a judge in the city caught in surprise by the suddenly damp weather. So far, all judges will be soaked in the cold rain, ha ha, it was inevitable. Already cold, cold, when you see the people walking on the pavement, a coat on top of their attire, collars raised to save them from the drizzle.

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All rooms were located on the street crowded as ever with all the judges of the society. That same oxygen, as if you're smoke in a room. Poisonous. Entering into the inner voice, "So? No fresh air out there? "You say, and for the first time, defeated. Maybe this is not what you expected at all. You immediately stepped back in.

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"You, somehow you never will!" I brooded as I beat you in the second half. "You're losing the game."  Maybe the main problem is that your brain is constantly playing a game, which does not fit to that position or the position that you betrayed. The result, unfortunately, negative. Your head's like mine, big enough to contain every god and evil there ever was.

Two mice fell into the smoke, into the milk they were to steal. One is dead and one survived. I've been told that you had the determination and ambition; but you're too a dead mouse. I just have to die in here, I am sentenced to death. I was the one who fell.

But you?

The poor dead mouse, it's not you, as the judges becomes the Devil sitting on the bread you're about to chew.

The Valkyrie at my side is shouting and laughing with the pure, hateful, bloodthirsty joy of the slaughter... and so am I.









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