My inner angst is really about the boy they told me I was and the man they tried to make me be, the man who played their games too well and hurt those she loved, who was a cog in their machine of death and sex and hate that eats EVERYTHING and shits out broken hopes and shattered dreams, and I hate hate HATE that I spent 29 years stuck in the cell that they forced me to build for myself under the scorching heat of a sun that never loved me and always will, and my angst is a butterfly that is trying to turn back into a caterpillar because the only other choice is to become something else and I didn't think I was ready but it turns out that I AM.
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