Writing

Rhyming rubbish.

If there’s ever a day that I don’t compare

to you or her, or even any

theres something wrong, I won’t be all there.

its a daily ritual I can’t put to bed.

a mind-fucking curse, a poison in my head

where I’m desperately reaching for someone who’ll care.

destructive and damaged, with emotions too many

where I’ll push you away when in reality I want you here.

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