Vile, bile, waves of rile
No, she didn't mean
any of it
Wounds, pain, cold spite
No, she didn't intend
any of it
Manipulations, exploitations, abuses veiled
No, she didn't calculate
any of it
It is not her.
But her ailments that make her
do it
That's not truly,
never,
who she is.
Don't you have a grain
of compassion and empathy
left?
Suffering as it is,
she is
living with herself
These and many more
fictions I keep
repeating to self
Who needs a reason to be
stupid
over and again?
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