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    there are so many cracks, so many chips in my thoughts. anything that ever was or is my world is crashing, burning, dying.
    I'm shattered, into a million pieces.
    every bandage is sliding off, and all I can do is throw it away,
    and make the journey to find a new one.
    my stare feels empty, but so full.. of what? I don't know.
    I can feel the pulse in the back of my eyes, the chronic lump in my throat,
    there is no escape. I am in, surrounding, observing, creating and feeling hell.
    the pit in my stomach never stops churning.
    my thoughts never disappear.

    nine o clock, on a friday night..
    my back aches, but the heat rising from the tar and gravel below me is comforting.
    eyes puffy and stinging. there is no end.
    I rock back and forth, consider my options.
    weighing the pros and cons as if I'm about to write a persuasive essay. I'm still picking sides.
    I don't know where I stand.
    I don't know if you could call this standing.
    every strength that I've ever had has washed away, with the life that I had.
    each drop, eliminating me.

    life catches up to you.
    a car pulls up to the road that I am spread out across.
    my instinct to move has disappeared.
    life stops, the world stops. no more breeze, everything around me is frozen.
    I sit up, and wonder if this is really what I want. it is.

    I may be alot of things, but I am not a very selfish human being.
    no matter how badly I crave the only escape,
    I can't have it, I wont.

    every person I've ever had a conversation with, their life is brought down.
    I couldn't do that.

    so here I am, day after day after day..
    seeking an escape,
    an escape from reality, an escape from the nightmares, an escape for this much pain..
    and still, I have found nothing.

    I am.. nothing.
    nothing but fear, pain.
    my heart slowly slides down into my stomach.

    I am shattered glass,
    and the child that trips into it.

    I am an open wound,
    and the knife that did the opening.

    I am the keyboard,
    and the text on the screen.

    I have become the nightmare.

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