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I am plummeting into a railroad
and calling the tracks murderer
calling my self doubt
bully
and I’m trying to reverse psychology my
worry.
When I die my grave stone will be this quote
“the most common want is to be remarkable” Because
He said you know this will be the reason you die at the end?
So be it.
There are things I can’t speak of
that want to float away like baloons,
and my insides support this
as they are taking up so much room.
I remember certain people like bad dreams
I associate the word youth with PTSD
But the harder it gets
the deeper I breathe
Because one day the skeletons will unlock the closet door and leave
and i want my lungs to be full.
I have been replacing bad days stolen
with believing todays sun in golden
and praying that my skin stops
crawling long enough to absorb it.

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