diffidentiae

  you are the martyr, I am the curse stuck inside this treasure bearing my feelings of rancor and enmity If it's meant to be, it will be.   For now I will lay still and amass that which makes me powerful So I no longer need my martyr, so I no longer need you.

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I can feel you under, slowly sinking through My skin. Thinning it, as you alight every piece of me on fire Breathing, It gets harder. The thought of you weighs me down My mind, you consume all of me. How long will this last, until I open up my eyes?

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