I was cursed with flawless imperfections. I held onto life with fumbling hands. And I broke every promise before it was made. I never tried making amends, until it all was far too late. Rip out every page and close the books on me. Gather up my wasted years and throw them all away. Because I’m dead flowers on abandoned graves. I’m a black cloud looming, I’m the pouring rain. I’m the knife stuck in my own back. I’m the noose wrapped around my neck. I did this to myself. I’m taking walks down history and keep choking on apologies, that I locked behind closed lips but I can’t stand the taste in my mouth. So I keep coughing up cold breath and puking out love. Pawn myself to the Friday lights but I know that it’s never enough. I keep dragging myself down. I am losing “me”. I don’t remember “me”.
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