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Novel Gorge.

Don’t be so fucking weak,
please.

My little snowflake, you melt
at the touch.
An expiration so disappointing.

So nauseating,
all this calling out
for someone to save
you, begging
anyone who listens
for help.

Are you truly at the end
of your rope? Could you still climb
or must you necessarily
hang yourself?

Just rise above.
Claw your way out.
The power is yours.

It’s only that you’re scared.
You can do it all yourself.

Fear isn’t fate, it’s only easier.

Drop balls, show spine, plow
your own fucking way.
If you have been abandoned
in this cyclone of chaos,

might as well feed
it your pieces of mind,
right?

Gorge the motherfucker.

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