I don't know if I will ever be able to love fully again...
I write poetry just to help break my own fall.
I struggle with a sense of existential anxiety
And sometimes I can't see the point in continuing to live life at all...
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I've never been the type
To keep both of my feet on the ground.
Far too quixotic
Never failed to throw all my love around.
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And from the outside I look fine
But walls close in with a blink...
I get so nauseous
Whipping vomit off of the bathroom sink...
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Shit, I meant the bathroom floor.
Fuck, I meant the bathroom door.
I couldn't hold it in...
I don't know which service absorbed more...
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And I don't drink
Least I don't think
I did like I did before...
And I don't see
That side of me
It's buried in your rapport...
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I look for answers
But I fill my mind with deeper dark holes.
I need to fill them in
The scars live on, but slices can close.
I mean, the damage will heal.
I mean, I...fuck it, who knows?
The past is just the past
We have to give that shit a fitting repose.
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I don't know if I will ever be able to be able again...
I've lost a lot me while falling for a fair-weather friend.
I struggle with a sense of waiting till I can see the end.
And sometimes I can't see the point in stretching if you won't bend.
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I've always been the type
To only keep one foot on the ground.
I'm far to vigilant
I have to keep from getting knocked down.
-
And from the outside I look fine
But doors slide shut with a hiss...
I get so pissed
That I could slip my blade right over my wrist...
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I meant right over my throat...
I meant right under my chin...
I want to call you
But I don't want to relapse once again.
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You know I smoke
Because the jokes
Can only keep so much in.
But you can't see
That side of me
Like back when we were just friends...
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I don't know if I will ever be able to...