And in the night, it was a drunken stutter
Started as a next to nothing conversation
And then he's tearing me out
Taking me apart at my friend's house
I was uncomfortable, I was hurt
Still with blue innocence in his eyes
I felt my reasoning was harsh
With every stab wound and exhale, I promised myself
That I would never lose my youthful fears of grown up men
I'm scarred with cruel intentions
I thought of another the whole time
Who would have never stared me like that
See, he saw me as a human
This one thinks I'm a slaughterhouse
He pretends that he's understanding
And you know in the grand scheme of everything
He's probably called a nice man
Or an ordinary kind of man
Or a stereotype with strong hands, I'm so sad
youthful
would
whole
understanding
thought
thighs
these
there
stutter
strong
still
stereotype
statues
started
stared
slower
within
slaughterhouse
wound
second
taking
scheme
scarred
forgive
grand
hurts
probably
could
quick
another
reasoning
desire
cruel
barren
house
outrun
tearing
apart
dread
between
thinks
intentions
grass
drunken
arrived
never
called
realized
fears
grown
begin
hands
harsh
human
before
pretends
little
check
innocence
uncomfortable
exhale
night
every
everything
myself
nothing
quieter
ordinary
promised
conversation
repeated
romance
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