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My fingertips are cold but my toes are warm. Maybe too warm. I should turn the heater off. But I'm so cold. I don't want to wrap myself in a blanket because I'll just be cold still. There's nothing at fault right now. I'm guilty of the things I feel inside. I shouldn't be so fooled by people. I'm blinded by their mere presence in my life and how good I feel around them. Those feelings fade quick.
I hate being screwed over, over and over again.
I hate being screwed over, over and over again.