Constellations

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My mental illness.

A voice on my shoulder.

A pushy father figure I can never please.

White noise and static constantly consume my being.

Are you really even living in this constant state of sadness?

I dance with death daily.

We have rehearsed the routine daily.

I mess up the steps repeatedly.

Mistakes turn into anger.

Anger turns into blood... My blood.

Suddenly I am a galaxy.

My failures, simply makeshift constellations.

As chemicals assault my brain I realise this is merely a supernova.

-XR

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