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Masochistic Reenactments.

Why? Because they are real, 
you hate yourself
and they serve as your hell, 

so you perpetually regurgitate,
recreate in some attempt
at some sense of reconciliation
between your heavens
and your darkest depths…

Hypnotic illusions
that serve to distract,
echoes you find yourself
screaming through.

Blind to conscious
eyes, frantically dancing
to a skipping record
you’re hopelessly
deafened to. 

Intense, dead eyes
scanning your mind,
emotionless, cold and calculating,
raping you

from skin to soul
again and again and again.
Power playing, shadows enslaving,
controlling a puppet: you tool. 

Now hate yourself,
turn up the volume
to the goddamned max
as you fall into…


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