Too cold to sleep, too cold to even write.
Trapped inside a never ending sadness.
My soul trapped inside another world,
while my body walks and talks--
Something I don't understand myself.
And I will never truly know,
Who I was before; who am I really?
An effigy of something spiritless,
and like myself, it is dark.
And when I read about these things,
or when I write about these things,
I wonder if I am alive at all.
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