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The Weapon.

I like being big and bad. i like being intimidating to people. its like a suit of armor the same as my leather jacket is. people advoid me. Thats the perfect eay things should be. I like that people fear me. I'm both happy and sad that the people i intimidate and cause to fear me includes you, you've seen all sides of me and you have given yourself reasons to fear me. sadly while i understand i have never given you a damn reason to. 


the same hand that could be a weapon is also the hand that protects. But thats a comfort reserved for only when you need it, never when i fuckin do. thats the rules of engangement, thats how it fucking works. never the protector, except when you need someone bigger and badder in your life than the scary people who you surround yourself with. It's good that I'm that person. at least finally for once, i know exactly where i stand.


I moved on. you didn't. thats the saddest battle of our war. you destroyed the little bit of happiness i had without you because of jealousy so you could win the argument. 


I don't play you're stupid fucking games anymore. i live an entirely diffrent life and the gap between us cannot be anymore pronounced these days. 


you are simply an unhappy memory that continues to be a ghostly presense in my life because you won't let go. i don't know your agenda or if you even have a game plan, but at this point I dont care. 

He’s not afraid of your judgement
He knows of horrors worse than your Hell
He’s a little bit afraid of dying —
But he’s a lot more afraid of your lying

And the things that he fears
Are a weapon to be held against him…



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