I get it.
I really do.
I get that fear,
that nervousness
growing
pulsating
spinning around
in my stomache
waiting for the day
waiting for anything
lucky
to befall
a tragic,
dramatic,
pathetic,
little me.
But when it comes
to hiding
the storm,
I tower
over you.
And over you
i see just
how much
we're alike,
and how much
we are different.
My point to my ranting,
raving,
and preaching
is,
You're pathetic.
You're done.
You've given up the fight.
And i'm just getting started.
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