I mean, women
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I mean, women
Behind this mask of aloof confidence is a broken soul, terrified of the future but trapped in the past.
Glowing eyes and a dark silhouette, A painted face and long sharp fangs, The heavy thump of large feet on dirt, A voice that whispers sweet little lies.
What am I?
What is being alone?
I've got a crown made of the purest ivory and obsidian. What kind of crown do you have?
How many more times do I have to cut you up before you'll leave me alone!?
Why do you fight?