Therapy

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I advised myself to write the things I couldn't say, or wouldn't say out loud on this paper.
Things such as
 
the argument I had now two sundays later
my excuse as to why i'm such a loner
and my real feelings towards my heartbreaker
 
These words don't come out easy
They come out fast and unrehearsed
but that's not wise so I stay quiet
while inside there's a riot.
And after I sleep off the madness I feel like I belong in a hearse.
 
Because there's nothing left in me to feel
or at least that's how it feels.
Especially when it hits me all at once.
The worst part about it all?
No one will notice when I fall

and I won't know who to call because I'm afraid they'll understand.



They'll tell me it's just a phase
They'll say this pain won't last always


But how it'll end, when it'll end is something
they can't tell me.
That's something they'll leave for myself
 
But don't they know I'm a clam?
A clam Sam I Am.
and talking is something I won't try like Green Eggs & Ham.
 
There's too much pressure in deciding what to say
 
What if I say the wrong thing?
 
and they finally see how deep my pain is rooted.
How deep my anger is rooted.



Buried and packed tightly underneath I've looted.
my serenity
into infinity


Because only time knows when I'll express these feelings verbally.

 

 

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