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It’s true

I cry without making a single sound

Tears running down my face

Veins popping from my neck

Red coloring my lips

But not a single inkling of a sound
Art
Poems, works of art.
Mental pictures they create.
Painted with a pen.
I weep
For innocence taken
For dreams destroyed
For a family that is no more

I weep
For all that I gave
And never received
For all the times I killed myself
Over and over again

I weep
For all the times I sacrificed my soul
I weep today what I never had the luxury to mourn

It is a luxury to grieve

I weep
For a past of endless disappointments
I weep
As if it is all happening to me again

At this very moment
I weep
For my stolen childhood
I weep
For my repressed adolescence
I weep
For my invalidated wifehood
I weep
For all that couldve been and never was
At least this time I weep for me
I wanna be an eternal teenager
I don't wanna have problems
I don't wanna be a slave
I just wanna misbehave
I just wanna be an ape

16 years of torment
That I one represented
I wanna be ascendant

I don't know how my brain works
I don't wanna figure it out
I want to freeze time
Cringe
theres a friend of mine as an allotment by the sea
when ever she is there she is as happy as can be
its not to far away just a little hike
to her alloment she would ride her bike

just the other day to her allotment she did ride
when suddenly bike it began to slide
she fell of her bike it put her in a daze
she began to bleed her leg it had a graze

trev who is her husband new just what to do
i will take you home put a bandage on for you
off she went with trev to get her bandage done
trev heΒ Β just laughed never hadΒ Β so much fun
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