Photo by Dominik Vanyi on Unsplash

Pale Orchid

Happy people are sickening 
No one is ever that happy all the time

It feels so good to be bad
Fighting against the pure

I let the rage fester, poisoning my conscious
Blistering pustules - The Fear - infect my exterior

It used to make me sad
To dwell on the things that I have lost

I have become hardened against the good
In order to restore what was gained.

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Icon of a hand, hoding a pen, writing love, peace, and adobo grease, Guilliean

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