Notes
When did it start, I wonder.
When did the black form in my stomach, in my soul?
Was I born with hatred in my bones?
Why am I the one unable to sheathe the darkness? They all grip the cool metal, but the knife’s edge was sharper for me.
When did it start, I wonder.
When did the black form in my stomach, in my soul?
Was I born with hatred in my bones?
Why am I the one unable to sheathe the darkness? They all grip the cool metal, but the knife’s edge was sharper for me.
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