just a phase... that will probably never end... it's always like this... never had the skill to make it through the bend...
i grasp what is left... nothing there but the things i can no longer hide... what wounds are there, with unknown depths... and the worsening misery inside...
undaunted...yet helpless...
courageous... but weary...
trying to be real... but being pretentious...
what is there left that is real?
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