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I am sick of being pushed around and left behind.
I am sick of feeling like I don't matter.

I am sick of feeling like I am a bother when I voice my matters.

I am sick of feeling like I have to hide my problems when I am about to burst at the seams.

I am sick of being told it will happen, when I know no one will actually reach out and help me.

I am sick of being told everything will be okay, when I really see no change in anything no matter how hard I try.

I am sick of pretending to be someone I'm not.

I am sick of being something I don't want to be.

I am sick of being sick with something I can't get rid of.

I am sick of...dying.

I'm dying, and I have yet to tell anyone.

I am sick, of being scared.

I'm so very, very scared.
I only love you
at night
when loneliness
fuels desire
and
desperation
replaces
rational thought

Your value is reflected
in an empty whiskey bottle
sideways
on the stained carpet

Funny how everything
is eventually
neglected
A little ******* truth.
Raven, weep not.
Your time has yet to come.
Your screams make children flee.
And women scream.
You make men quiver in fear of disease.
Told a friend, told a few.
Scary house, pretty knife.
Pretty girl, ugly life.

Mother knew, father saw.
Fathers wife, constant threats.
Sanity hanging by a thread.

I took her hand, ran away.
Or was it casual walking?
Praying for a better place.

Met a man, pretty brown eyes.
Kissed a man, hungry lips.
****** a man, total bliss.

Old friend, new bed.
Lit up, ****** down.
Rested my head, closed my eyes.
Accepting a new life
as a Walkaway.
Please tell me when it kicks in.
This captivating rhythm.
Made of gold and motivation.

This pathetic degree.
Though, I gotta bury it.
All her intentions.
All his perfection.
All her obsession.

His many redemption.
His own intentions.
One of his obsessions.

He, her only correction.
Catching her attention.
Only to be, a betrayed connection.
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