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Imagine life in all its happiness. Smiles and laughter like unspoken blemishes on the face of bliss.

Creation. Emancipation. Of everything that used to be. Purposely picked and placed parallel to everything perpendicular. Crossing, blocking, love from passing the intersection. Left imperfect in all of its perfection.

Then love turns to hate and hate turns to redemption. Staring fate in its eyes and staying silent like the end of a sentence. But the properties of this unknown leaves improper nouns proper and all you can do is capitalize.

Take advantage of advantage and be the boss of your own life so it’s only your soul you have to manage.

But you can’t stand it.

So your emotions run rapid.

Open wounds form disillusions leaving micro aggressions even harder to bandage.

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