There is plenty more to come,
I already feel completely numb,
Tolerance of life’s shit
Is breaking bit-by-bit,
I don’t care about important things,
All I want are fancies and flings,
The one thing I care about
Will never be mine, without a doubt,
She is genuine, where I am false,
I stumble, where she can waltz,
Her heart is pure, where mine is poisoned,
I am dry, where she is moistened,
I’m going in relentless circles,
Bypassing imaginary miracles,
Dreaming of having what I can’t,
Living on a downward slant,
Looking for the stepping stones
That are supposed to prove I’m not alone,
All while knowing in my mind,
That none of these things I’ll ever find…
He’s a liar, all hopers are liars…
I want them ended in purging fires…
My own escape will not be swift…
It will happen following a sleepy drift…
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