I am sick to my stomach, with a belly full of rage. Hate escapes my nostrils, with a pain my knuckles crave. Violence clouds my vision. It's a redness in my eyes. For traits in you that I despise.
Stuck in a rut, miserable as fuck.
Don't wanna hear your voice, don't care about your thoughts.
I see myself to be all I claim to be.
You! Speak for yourself and all the things that you do.
Quick to offer your voice, but never your hand, so this is where we stand.
I stay distant. I keep it short. Don't need your friendship if I know I'm not important.
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