drown my sorrows.
are there any morrows?
can my sight possibly see farther then that day that i cannot stand seeing. It’s all canned in my hart. this worry, this object of pain digging into my brain. Escape is fleeting, I deserve such a beating. distract my pain from attacking me.
closely you look into these words that are hooks, enjoying this sadness the pain from this crushing life. this blushing wife. this hanging head. dead dead dead.
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