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Oct 26
Leave them,
Leave it,
Watch out,
Move in,
Not enough,
Close the door,
Open up.
You will die
You will not cross their minds
They will spit on your grave
Few will visit with flowers
Few will drop their tears
Down on the mudd that emerged with
your remains.
I blacked out when
I was born.
My eyes were black
My future is black
It is dull
It is foolish to think
It will ever get better
Mood swings,
I take it all out on myself
Nobody will ever understand
but myself.
And they will still be blinded by
Plans and traditions and so and so.

Pretend I am dead
Although, I feel dead
They still see me,
Hug me,
Kiss me.

I go look in the mirror to
Make sure it is all real.

Or maybe
Just maybe,
I am in the daydream nation.
Written by
Hannah  22/F
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