Believe
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WpMetadataReadMaduroEm andamento59m
WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização sex, abr 17, 2020
This is the tale of emotions gone rogue. They stole a depressing '69 Mini Cooper Country Man. Denial is driving. Anger is smoking a cigarette in the passenger seat. Identity is nowhere to be found. The red flags are in the trunk. Okay, not seriously but that's what it feels like. This is a collection of poetry. I can't wait to be a dead poet so I can finally be appreciated. Welcome.
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He had rules for a reason, or thats what he said. I did something wrong I got punished. I spoke out of turn, I got punished. I looked at him or ate without permission, I got punished. Haven thats what they named me funny isn't it? Ironic really. They named me Haven because my mom would say I was her 'Safe Haven'. What a pile of shit that was. She left willingly, she didn't depart because of some tragic accident. My father didn't kill her. She left because she was a coward who didn't want kids. As soon as my older brother went to college she left. I knew she hated me. I was the product of her love with another man. A constant reminder that her life didn't work out the way it was planned. He who ever he was is a phantom in its own. A deep rooted fantasy never going to come true. My brother left, my mother left, my grandma ignored, and my father broke. They let me give up hope on escaping and then decided to play hero. But I haven't forgotten everything I went through. Guilt consumes my brother but I don't care, you don't get to leave and then buy a reprieve of trying to save someone who has been dead for years. Besides lets just be honest I reached my breaking point long ago.

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