fault

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it was all my fault.

internally, i am caustically complicated.
externally, i portray myself as blissful and contented.
in addition, i travel the extra mile to appear as if i contain a surplus of love and light to share.
i offer unwarranted advice, as if my personal life isn't the clutter of confusion that i instinctively brush under the surface in an attempt to ignore.

on common occasions, others do not reach the proximity necessary to perceive my internal flaws.
i refrain from discussing several of my personal matters in order to keep them at a safe distance from the disturbance.
i have deceived myself that i do not require care or intimacy with such repetition that my falsification has become a reality.
i find comfort in my solitude, since the only person i would be capable of hurting is myself.
i welcome the hurt, i deserve to stand the entirety of its capacity.

nonetheless, a rare occurrence contains an individual who is able to permeate my fabricated screen of unwavering self assurance.
i am unable to stop them, they enter when i glance in the opposite direction.
on viewing the mess, they promise that they will stay, that my positive attributes are worth grappling with the pain to experience.

they cling on to the rope, decorated with an intricate framework of thorns.
their skin glows with the effects of my kindness, but contains gaping incisions, severely sliced by each time that i allowed my malice to overcome my judgement.

remaining connected or associated with me is a burden, no less exhausting and dehumanizing than having one's soul gradually vacuumed into the abyss.
only the most masochistic or relentlessly loving of individuals would make the active choice to stay with someone who kills them softly.
yet by some vicious miracle, the majority of those individuals are wound up in my grasp.

i have the choice to consciously reduce and deplete them, or to set them free of their inhibitions.
although my flaws lead me to appear callous and spiteful, oftentimes even sadistic, i feel a piece of my heart engulf into flames as i notice the replies to my messages get shorter, or as i perceive tears trailing down one's cheek as they exit a room after a fight with me.

i am a designated antagonist, however, i do have control over the amount of people that i hurt.
and i have hurt enough people to last a thousand lifetimes.
therefore, when i express this, i mean it.
i want to shelter you, i want to protect you.
i understand that it is difficult to believe me when i inform you that you were not in the wrong, but i promise:
it's not you, it's me.

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