Because we live in a house of mirrors, we see our fears and everything. Not nobody, not a thousand beers, will keep us from feeling so all alone. You are what you love and not what loves you back. The heart attacks I'm convinced I have every morning upon waking. To you I'm a symbol or a monument, your rite of passage to fufillment but I'm not yours for the taking. I'm fraudulent, a thief at best, a coward who paints a bullshit canvas things that will never happen to me.
Working on what is going on in my head. I just need words to explain it and I can't seem to mouth the words. Is it normal to lose your words? Is it normal not to be able to label every moment of yours?
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