Maniac

45 3 6
                                    

TW- SELF HARM

My dreams different,
My motivations unique,
My logic lonely,
My heart feels so desolate in this foreign land.

But still, I walk amongst many others,
And a small part of me
Waits for the day
I'll meet someone just like me.

I can wait all I want,
But the world won't wait for me.

Who would be like me anyway?

Like me,
A mistake;
An error in this pre-planned society?

The thought of it is like a blissful dream,
But those never come true anyway.

Even if they existed,
They'd be dead by now.

Suddenly,
The air slits my wrist once again,
And a thick, black liquid runs down my arm.

Soon, the wound will no longer be concealable;
The pain can no longer be dealt with.

No rose petals for tears can dry it up this time.

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