the space station hums with the early morning traffic, the wafting of coffee and fresh croissants filling the air. for the first time, you are not behind your desk, hitting your shins on the weirdly placed piece of metal, but strapping yourself insi...
me? i am rough like coarse sandpaper with calloused hands that could soothe or choke
me? i am harsh my words leave fire in their wake my feet singe your holy ground my hands topple civilizations my fingers leave scars my arms are open, yes but only to trick into my love and put into motion your demise
me? i am mean from my mouth spits vile words building my wall even higher still care for others isn't in my code
me? i love none the fickle love of mortals has no place in my cold heart i am the rock in your garden beautiful yet deadly smooth but draws blood from your perfect skin
me? i am imperfect filled with many ugly things exactly what you aspire not to be
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