Am I?

I am the stillest kind of chaos I am the fullest kind of empty I am I am 4am 911 calls I am soft poetry bouncing off peeling walls I am I am I am taut skin stretched over overworked knuckles I am a kaleidoscope of tasteless adjectives scattered over the ashes of your past lovers I am I am I am I am a mess, a jumbled figure of a person you've long forgotten I am not myself I am I am I am...I am not

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