Dirty looks,
crooked books,
sly smiles,
and washed out lies.
These are a few of my unpleasant things...
Passive-aggressive,
stone cold stares.
Shivers,
dripping down the nape of my neck,
hardening the spine,
eventually laminating the veins in my legs.
I used to be fond of ones gaze,
until I got older,
and it fucked me into paralysis.
If you build a wall like I did,
realize that no one will stop until it's burnt to the ground.
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