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Oct 2014
Celebrating the heart-rending realization that my habitat is a hole in the ground like I am celebrating my birthday.
Accusing this sink-hole as the real devil's advocate the same way that I blame everyone else for the holes throughout my head and in my walls.
Celebrating the pitiful realization that instead of patching them, I fill them with stuffed animals and cover them with hand-me-down paintings that clash with the colored pages from my little sister.
I start celebrating every black and blue mark.
I made a new rule to never spend my money on white blinds or patterned curtains.
Not on a place so ******* dark.
It's defeating trying to move on and out in a realm where there just isn't enough light.
And I'm ashamed to admit that I've found comfort in it.
I'll make another toast to that and stop celebrating for tonight.
Fake Knees
Written by
Fake Knees
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