There are so many fucking things wrong with me.
I am all but perfect,
the bane of my own existence.
Turn these tables,
become the undefined,
raise the limits,
make yourself a better person... Oh, I wish.
I need to breath,
I want so bad... To just live.
And each passing day,
I become the beast.
Retreating to the darkest chambers of my soul,
A piece of who I hate welcomes my tired heart.
And I succumb to the wretchedness which is my reality.
Drawing it in, this hell becomes my life.
I accept it because I caant help myself...
I cant control myself!
This is not a poem D:
This is just me ranting.
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