so that these nervous hands have something to play with
tissue paper skin
and the patience of a saint
why must showing my dark part be revealing my truest self
what about the true, the value
I can't stop thinking about this time that I removed this glass from your room
but not the good deed; wondering years later if you had noticed
up all night
grieving the living
an advil addiction
an emotional affliction
nothing adds up
but I wouldn't know what to do with it if it did
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