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    Soft skin and dead hair
    And these tired eyes
    And I want to fuck to myself
    And I want to eat my self
    Broad back and bad tits, yes I know my kind
    Raw mouth, worn out, I've never felt so alive
    You've realized that I'll let you hurt me
    And now you want to do it all of the time
    No bruise is permanent, neither am I
    But you're welcome to try and try

    In the most ecstatic of senses
    I have embraced my suffering
    Twenty six years of false pretenses
    Again, pretending to care about men
    I am loved insofar as I cherish this pain
    You should shut your mouth
    Because language means nothing

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    When every set of fingers leaves a different dig on my hips
    Too big, on my back, it's too big
    When I get you alone I'll point out all of my problems
    Then I'll lay still while you try and resolve them
    And you can read the story of my last six weeks
    In little black bruises and marks from boy's teeth
    And that shit hurts- but if I'm anything less than perfection
    Well shit
    Nobody told me

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