This Mess This Mess it isn't mine yet in me it will remain it doesn't heal not with time always growing inside, along with blame this mess it isn't mine yet in me it will remain always mean never kind a bag I hold but cannot claim and I hide somewhere below with vents of cold who somehow know with their whispers I have grown accustomed to feel unknown this mess it isn't mine yet in me it will remain laughter to identify because of envy sublime still inside, a bloody stain this mess it isn't mine yet in me it will remain I could reveal and curse the stain pay with an innocent and i'll be like Cain
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