this insomnia-fueled killing game
the yearning of lost memories all the same
all these lies of mine reverberate
on empty walls trying to exterminate
these thoughts of hope and thoughts of life
imaginary pseudo-strife.
all these lies i feel like dying
to much of a coward
I'll just keep on crying
unless you feel like dying like i fell like dying?
attempting to convince my self its worth it,
convince myself to try
wonder what it would be like
if i were to die?
maybe if i just leave, the indecision will decide.
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