| There’s a point,
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| It’s a step
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| Between falling and breaking and laying flat broken in pieces
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| There’s a note you can hold
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| That sounds (but doesn’t feel) like you’re happy to be alive
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| She holds in it like we hold it in
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| Until we’re too full to take in a breath
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| A translucent body that retracts when you reach for it,
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| Pained at the touch and indifferent to love,
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| Lays asleep to us all,
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| Awake to her sadness
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| And why does everyone seem so cruel?
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| How can everyone be so cruel?
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| If I could only stay alive long enough to stop feeling this way |