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Oct 2020
you still pick at the scabs the blade has made
pencil in your though on your face
i can still feel you underneath my skin
you're lost and scared to let me in

you've abandoned all your beliefs
the relief you felt when you go to sleep
within your mind you cannot find
the point of sanity has gone blind

and all the rest just lay in bed
when you leave this place these walls will rest
oh be grateful
your time is all but spent
Written by
m  39/M/YUL
     Atticus and Eshwara Prasad
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