You’re doing something wrong.
From the corners of my mind,
chewing gum loathing seems forever stuck.
The forecast unknown,
but never truly clear,
a dark storm brewing, looks like I’m out of luck.

“Feel better soon.”
Who I used to be,
hoping that someday I’ll find her again.
Shoved down my throat,
“Don’t take the easy way out.”
But when will I make it out, if not then?

Every sharp object,
no more the skull and bones
but rather, a paradise I know could be mine.
A world I lost long ago,
that holds peace and joy,
where I could actually mean it when I say “I’m fine.”

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