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m.p.n.b.
I can fit anyone’s fantasy. bit my lip til it bleeds. say it again, say it slower, say it til my words slur and you want me anyway. you want me because there’s glitter in my hair, because the story you heard from across the party makes me seem exciting in a safe way, a way where you can’t really hurt me because I’m not really anything but a flash of color in a crowded room, the type of tattoo you peel off in the shower, a pair of wings perched on the shoulders of a mannequin with a mirror for a face. |
