Clown
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Apr 25, 2016
I lay there, silent and sombre, staring at the broken bulbs of my ceiling lamp, allowing the cigarette I held slowly burn down, I realised I was nothing to nobody. Everyone I loved, I'd pushed away. Everyone I wanted to love, I pushed away. Helplessly searching for someone who understands, someone who takes my insults for the compliments they're supposed to be, someone who treats me like their queen, not just a court jester or someone to take no real interest in. My audience was empty, no one wants to see a clown cry. Emotions have never connected with me, love never held me in its warm embrace, never sang its sweet song to the concert halls of my heart.
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I glared at him; every cell in my body was on fire with hate. Everything that he represented - a manipulated, cold, emotionless world - I wanted to end. Yet I couldn't because he was the only one that could get me what I had wanted for the past two years of my life. He was the only one that was cold enough to get the job done. What did that say about me?

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