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Fragmented Self who wanders through life like a dreamer and wades through the river of dreams as though it were the only truth left in this world
Quick to Whip
And just like that, the hatred was switched onto me.
For being good and just and proper,
I have been whipped.
It is a harlot who goes visiting in these hours.
It is a deviant whom skips school and tests.
And since I am neither I must hate.
I must remind myself:
I have someone else I like,
I need this grade,
I do not drink much anyway,
and there will be other times.
Turning the other cheek,
I must wait for it to be over.
Under the rule of a quick whip,
there will be a day when these decisions will not be painful.

I really did want to go. I really do want to flirt with him. i really do... but I can't. My roomie could drive me but... school and time. If I go there now, it's only for sleeping over or getting something. If not, I know I'll only be tempted to go there myself. Shame. Guilt and what would you say? You didn't think that was on his mind? Of course it was. It's on all of their minds. It was on his. It was on His too. And him. And her. It's on all their minds and it's on mine.





 
 
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