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"At The Heart Of My Disease." by Lydia Jade

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the swell of emotional decay
a confused bleeding of the soul
tempted into darkness
bound by the illusion of control

like running underwater
I'm not getting anywhere
the more i try to forget
the more i seem to care

i stole a breath so heavy
i felt my chest would collapse
under the weight
of my own mistakes
I'm left barren and alone

i cant see the world
through this milky film of pain
and the harder i look the more i see
me in all my self pity

...and I'm drowning all the same

like running under water
I'm not getting any air
the more i try to forget
the more i seem to care










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On Saturday August 9th, 2008, Sketso (626) writes:
the second and last stanzas stand (nearly in solitude) for the whole work... the rest was a bit cliche, for me, but, when we all write about "darkness", it's something we have to endure, yes?



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