I'm trying so hard to be strong
Do this thing on my own
But everything feels so wrong.
I wish I could've known
Just how bad things would end
Oh the ruins that would be left
Among a weak heart to mend.
It's tiring having to pick up the peices
Aware they'll soon be dismantled again.
Indulging in a task that only unleashes
My most inner demons from the bottomless pit
In which they've been.
Sometimes I wonder
Why I even bother
Picking up the debri
When it would appear that's all that's left of me.
-s.d
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