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I tell myself lies
To protect my ego
Twist what I know
Ignore the bruise on my pride
I tell myself lies
You enjoy my poetry
You feel very flattered by me
You may not care to see
Or even know me
But I tell myself lies
I pretend to believe
The wooden boards
of this old harbour
reeks of blood
stains,
seeping through
the gaps.
Splashing
into
a crystal
but yet
blurred mirror.
Who we were,
before the jump
now forgotten,
Drowning
into red seas.
I think many of us feel this way and writing about it helps us. Life is not easy, for sure. Suicide is never the answer. What doesn't **** you, does make you adapt better.
The Devil
Doesn’t tear you down
He builds you up
Until

You believe you can
Do it alone
Then he smiles
As you fall

And you always fall
Somewhere across the
Noise.

Someone died
And I was glad-
it-
Wasn't
Me.

I have shallow
Empathy
And don't mourn
My losses.

They lived
Longer
Than I ever
Wanted
To.

Still. I
Persist
In this miserable
Monotony.

Lucky,
Epistemic luck,
I don't think
I know you?
i looked into
her hazel eyes
a little too long --
which had
surprisingly
been long enough
to wonder
if forever
could fit
in
a
glance.
date wrote: 29/6
A familiar longing haunts me,
for a face I've never seen,
a body I've never held
and a mind I've never known.

— The End —