Torturero: Part II
My cigarette smoke makes
your nostrils flare,
distracting me from your
nonchalance.
I stare and wonder why
so much time was wasted
trying to be someone
I am not.
Your words always pierced,
your ears were always big;
there was always something about you
that made me scared
I started to resent all
that you seemed to be.
Was it because I
stopped worshipping you?
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someone once said (celestialmtn) that one is better off being alone than to be with someone who makes you compromise who you are. or, something to that effect.
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