Lost

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There you stand.
Taunting me.
A finger pointed,
longing to be
far away.
Where I'm free.
Free.
Free to be who I want to.
Not what you do.
Who I am.
I am me.
I am not scared of you,
but of the things that are in this world.
They're what scare me most.
But would you care?
Oh, hell no.
You'd never listen to my wonderings.
Everything you should be there for;
you're not.
And, I'm lost.
Lost and scared.

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