Burn.

It's not my fault they are all twisted twines.
It is my fault for ever believing in them.
Tying my worth on fragile egos,
hiding my made-up sorrows.
"I don't want to be strong, yet."
"I want someone to carry me
to tell me it's all gonna be fine."
Now I know it's all bullshit.
The intuition is always correct.
Bypass the ritualistic liars,
it's about who gets fucked &
who gets paid double time.
It's a world without reason:
you can be cruel & people
will worship you if
you set the rules;
the thieves thrive while
the kind-hearted lose
their lives & minds.
A world in our image, burning
from the inside.

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