Maybe if the house is clean and decluttered;
My thoughts wouldn't wonder the wrong way.
Maybe if I buy the right scented candles;
To brighten up my dark disarray.

Maybe if I practice more hygiene;
To soothe away the chronic pain.
Maybe if I let it all out, right here;
The tears could moisturize my disdain.

Maybe if I wear some clothes;
I can match the world and assimilate.
Maybe if I crack more jokes;
I wouldn't need to contemplate my fate.

Maybe if I wash my tangled hair for a change;
Or turned up the tunes to masquerade.
Would the numbness slowly fade?
Would these thoughts become unmade?

Maybe if I sit here long enough, comatose;
Basic necessities would dissipate.
Maybe if I muster a murmur for aid;
Maybe it wouldn't be too late.

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