| Page one. |
| I finally found the time to reflect on my past and look into myself.
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| It seems as though I haven’t been able to feel anything that I haven’t already
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| felt
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| Page two. |
| I don’t see things as negatives, I truly try to look towards the
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| light. |
| But you must understand, it’s hard to live in the present when you can’t
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| even fall asleep at night
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| Page three. |
| There are words scratched out. |
| Thoughts never fully composed.
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| Times are dark, thoughts are darker, and that’s the way that it goes
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| Page four. |
| The erasure on this page seems to outweigh the boldness of the
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| writing. |
| It was as if there was more to say, but there was no use in fighting
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| Page five. |
| There is nothing on this side. |
| The whiteness of these blank sheet
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| seemed to match the color of your eyes
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| Page six. |
| Spaces appear between lines and words where they shouldn’t be.
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| Bold phrases are underlined and ink has soaked through the page.
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| What’s more to say when the lines haven been drawn and the games have been
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| played? |
| I know I’m not the man that I once was, but I don’t know if I’m okay
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| with that yet
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| I’m sorry for the writing, but this may just be the last. |
| The wind has picked
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| up nicely and the pace is getting fast. |
| You didn’t have to tell me,
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| but I wish you would’ve asked, and if you won’t be my safe haven you may have
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| to be my past
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| These times are transparent and it’s so hard to make it. |
| I live in a blackened
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| hole. |
| No hindsight and no self control. |
| You’ll read me like a book,
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| open for you, every breath I took. |
| Hold hope, make it out alive.
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| Grit my teeth and just close my eyes |