| During A little question is rioting in my mind, making me wonder if this is stupid. Maybe this is just one of those times, and then I'll be back. But maybe that was never you, maybe you were never back, maybe the real you stayed somewhere while the other put on a show. My body is shaking as the moment gets closer, I can feel myself dissolving. I am dissolving, melting into the moment, into this time which only has room for me-- all others got off before this stop, but I am here, confused and scared, will somebody stop me? Don't they know I don't actually want this? Don't they know I feel frozen outside, but like chewed gum on the inside? Why do they keep sitting there, not questioning my motives, me and my words, me and my feelings. Why don't they just give me a call write me a line show that they hear-- deliver me before I deliver this sentence-- too late. |
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