Can’t stand to be in this skin but the brain oh the brain mauls the body with it’s prowling nightly clawing- this dream that dream come and go come and go but no settle, no settle. How many years without suicide? How many days, months- oh the minutes, oh the hours, oh the waves. All that. Opportunity. Money. A gift of confidence in the self, a gift of love of the self. Or, maybe- simply- the one you adore not leaving. Not becoming a lost, the lost- that loss. Forever. Nothing. Nonsense. Sweet all this. but to run away. That would be. Best.
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