such is the pattern of my life. a mother confuses a son's face with that of an old lover, laying animosity over the frail frame of innocence. a girl leaves a boy, however unconditional his love, for pudgy, smoke-filled lips and liquor bottles that circle the room. and now a father, in his infinite wisdom and judging right hand, pushes a son to
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I can't say it enough times. I love you. You are anything but a burden or a mistake; you are beautiful, you are a joy. Ultimately, you have to find your own way out of this pain. I know you will.
On the up-side, you've developed a very impressive vocabulary for expressing pain!
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it could be worse. you could be trapped in a gorilla's body, but even then our agreement is still on.
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