GoodMorning, Glory

There is only so much to bear, when I think of our transgression. I think of change, but I also remember wounds dripping red, bright red blood that were brought forth with words so hurtful, so distorting and painful. But I see white fields filled with flowers, I have given hearts away from yours. A flower that holds but only six petals, each petal represents a change or shift in who I have become. Five attempts and one act of suicide. No, not physically but my masochist rhetoric, which I find so appealing, leads me to believe I am committing emotional suicide. I am now together with multiple hearts who have built an empire based upon honor, love, cherish and trust. Where does this leave you? With me? Maybe. GoodMorning.

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