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MaybeMaybe if you'd kept your promise,
Things could be different.
I would still be blind to a wonderful sight
And I'd be holding on with all my might.
Letting myself lose control
And fall through the deep end.
Maybe if you'd call me,
Time would be spent.
Rather than wasted and murky and dark,
Travelling hopelessly through a mighty stark .
I wouldn't be where I am today,
So maybe this is all a good thing.
Because maybe there wouldn't be tension in this.
Lord knows the places I went
To run away from all the lies.
Now you're the one running with bloodshot eyes
But, dude, if you'd only let me deal with the sin,
Then maybe, just maybe , I wouldn't have to break in.
StimulantI'm useless, I am a loser, a piece of white trash, dissolving into something corrupt and pathetic. It's gotten to a point where I slowly started to lose my artistic abilities. It downs me. It causes me so much stress and it just makes my mind go completely blank. In that blankness, the only thing that is able to fill that void is the stimulants in which I consume within myself. Gluttony wins. Gluttony always wins. These stimulants, only making it worse. There is not easy way to go. No way to purge these murky abominations. Nothing to make it all come back. Every feeling, every burnt, lost emotion I've had, now incinerated with the ashes of an adolescent's broken dreams. They leave forever. Desolation is all that remains. Until I can find some sort of eminent solution, this is what will have become of me.
John“John. John, are you there?
Come on, John. Answer me.
Where’d you go, John?
John, don’t leave me alone.
I am in no condition to be left alone right now, John.
Wh- Where’d he go?
“John?” I sniffle.
“John?” I weep.
He’s gone. He left you. Accept that.
“N-No. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t.”
“John, please… Please come back.”
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