A chill in the air
and the sense of pain
no worries, it's just another day
the things that feed this pen
moving far beyond the every day
making it harder and harder to rise
minutes spent at another's grave
still wishing it would have been me
many moments spent talking to a stone
better than the moments talking to thin air
could this be the madness engulfing me
could it just be me tring to find me
the struggle to keep it all together
eight to twelve hours a day
until it's time to run away
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