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Eyes wide open, seen but not heard, a sound in the sight before it once could be seen by others. There is lack of sense with logic, and the truth of opinions mean more than they should.
The pain within, is but a thousand knifes jabbing at my soul, my tattered, broken soul. Who is there to trust? Who is there to love? What is the point when nothing truly exists? You are not real, I am not real, we are not real, nothing is real.
At night, alone and cold, tears roll quickly, the jabbing becomes a gruesome mutilation of hopes, dreams, and sanity. Stop laughing, it's not so bad. There are many cheering for you, can you hear them outside?
"Go for it! Yeah! We're rooting for you!"
Please make them stop.
Who knows, maybe they aren't saying anything at all. But nonetheless, they have a point, everyone must die sometime.
I hate you
I love you
I hate to love you
I love to hate you
I worry for whoever makes the mistake of befriending me. The person within me, I have my doubts about, but who is to