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When I was little I ensured everyone I had the loudest scream One that would shake the world I could feel it brewing up inside me Begging for an escape But I wouldn't 
So many people Are shouting at me I go to work To get shouted at I go home To get shouted at The voices in my Head shout at me Where can I escape this Constant shouting
It's funny how stuff works out, No matter how loud I shout, You can't hear. It's funny how shrill I cry, Funny how much I try To disappear. But it's the holiday season, so what is my reason to die?
i wonder to this day - was it a power thing? 'cause that's sure how it felt sitting small in my chair trying to curl in on myself hoping to dissolve into nothingness like the salt in my tears  
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