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Hiding in Plain Sight

Sometimes I can’t help but feel like I’m like Superman when he is pretending to be Clark Kent. I put on clothes and change my mannerisms in order to imitate the normal people around me. The problem is it is getting harder and harder to pretend. I have to drown out all those terrible thoughts racing through my head about everyone around me. Figuring out what makes them tick and what I could say to them to hurt them if I had too. There ain’t nothing right and there ain’t nothing wrong to me. Just little wet tears. An emotional avenger who knows that you will surrender if I say the right things. Defeated. Everything is a battle to me. A handshake, a hello, words…those poison darts of pleasure. They are like lines of dark, fantastic passion. They wash across ugly skin that never feels, tense anticipation of robbing someone of something. I say the words so leisured. I don’t think of the consequence of the sounds. The consonants and vowels. The sounds oscillate wildly from my mouth to other’s ears. The noise.

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