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  Oct 2016 gray rain
Imotional
Anger comes and goes sometimes it stays.

It's annoying at first then fades away.

Just like the rainy days

in the middle of August.
When I was able to feel the pain
I went not to my mother.
My mother betrayed me.
Not my father,
My father left me.
I retreat to music.
I bury my scars and bruises in music notes.
I wait for that beat to drop,
In order to raise my heart back up.
This music numbs my pain.
I feel safe in my music,
Grab a pair of headphones before a gun
In a **** zombie apocalypse.
I am going to drown out the hurtful words,
In a tub full of lyrics.
Music,
Heres to you,
For saving my life,
More than anything ever should have to.
Safety,
If you’re lucky
Will be found.
But my safety is the drums
And the guitar.
A song for every occasion,
The rain even has a beat,
Drumming but no rhythm.
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