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Mar 2013
I told myself a day from tomorrow,
that I'd stop this pity and get along with sorrow.
It sickens me and leaves me here,
UN-guarded and filled with a craving like none before..
the needle it sinks in my skin as I slowly am embodied into clay,
morphing into the different sounds and feelings that illuminated the bare room.
Staring into my own face,
looking at the face of death with no regret.
I walk on day by day revealing this unnatural smile of mine for all to glance upon.
Put out of sight,
out of mind,
I can't find myself.
In the sympathy of thought that nestles the moon,
I am hiding here because of what I will be soon.
The next drug addict or ******.
H E L P ?
G O D ?
A N Y O N E?
No one is there.
Thy creator left me in a dark place,
where my mind could never set free,
could never escape.
This is my destiny,
my fate.
Hurry! Don't anticipate before your timing is too late.
Somebody call the mortician,
somebody get him here fast,
because soon enough nothing will last.
Just the foggy memories of my decimated path,
It lay tangled at your feet,
I'm your aftermath.
The anarchist ******.
Tonya Cusick
Written by
Tonya Cusick  23/F/Joplin, mo
(23/F/Joplin, mo)   
1.7k
   ---, August and Alex Bautista
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