Sick.

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I'm sick.

So utterly sick.

Not physically,

Only mentally.

Im sick of my brain,

My brain playing these constant games.

Stressing me out,

Leaving me puking my guts out.

I don't like it,

I don't need it.

I only wish I could beat it.

I try and try.

But I'm running dry.

I'm tired of sitting here,

Crying  and crying.

I'm growing tired.

Fueled by fire.

I'm just waiting.

Waiting to expire.

                    -My True Feeling's.

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