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Poetry

unwell

I am unwell.
I know this one thing to be true.
The only thought of mine I can trust.
A million fragmented phrases race around in my head
but I can not believe a single word.
you are better this way
you are happier this way
why fight it?
you don’t love him.
you don’t need her.
you should pour a drink.
load a bowl.
do a line.
run for hours.
skip that meal.
who needs sleep?
go have fun.
This is not fun
anymore.
I do not want this
anymore.
I cannot feel
anymore.
I can’t live like this
anymore.
How did I survive this
before?

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