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Dying for Love
To keep you near, I’d murder me.
Betray, bury myself to be
Who I think that you want to see;
Watch you love a different me.
And my true soul would pine till gone,
Shrivelled up dry, from love withdrawn.
For all your springs would pour upon
That barren crust, my fair façade.
I’d hide away my soul so well
It’d ne’r sip of life-giving swell,
Till I was naught but empty shell,
And you’d see ‘t’was with corpse you dwell’d.
Yet for courage to let you in,
For never there, have others been,
If you stayed, and showed me you, then
I’d know t’was love that we were in.
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I wrote this piece about the struggles of being a people pleaser. To always present a better version of myself, and constantly be afraid that if people truly knew me, they wouldn't like me as well. The irony is that while pretending to be perfect, I felt less loved, because it wasn't really me I thought they liked, when my friends probably would have loved a more human version of me even better, if they couldn't see through me already.