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I endure the pain
along this sad life journey
knowing you are there
I want to write my own story
But sadly I only hold a poet's pen
Not the pen of destiny
I’m giving you just the tools to break me

Do it

I Dare You
Dreams
Also known as
Childish hallucinations
We all had dreams
But slowly
They lose their glow
And are forgotten
In the sea of dead stars
How do you cry for help
When all you know
Is a silent plea?
Eye contact is not an option
I can’t hold a conversation
It’s basically impossible
Fitting in is not my forte
I can’t even explain
What it feels like
To NOT be able to talk
Even when you really want to
Even after hours of mental preparation
Nothing comes out
Not even a squeak
Social anxiety kinda *****
Sorry, my poetry has gotten extremely sloppy. And I’ve been facing MAJOR writers block. Any suggestions on how to get over this??
skin is the paper
the knife replaces the pen
remove lives mistakes
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