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Wandering around the room like I'm in a cycle, spiraling.
Hours passed, it hurts my knees from within.
Creating the millionth dream in my fantasy,
Will I ever stop this pattern or has it become a part of me?

Witnessing all these blurry images in me
Happy crowds and smiling faces, rising from my tragedy.
Is it my brain that is protecting me?
By creating false realities I've never tasted.

Should i be grateful for it or just stop?
My tasks are overflowing from the desk, a pile so high, someone could climb to the top.
My intuition tells me to cut this habit off,
Like a tumor that should be chopped.

Finally discovered it's all just parts,
Drenched in dark pitch, starving larks.
The moments i should have been in,
Have they turned into curses or are they just blessings?

Constantly putting off, it's addicting
Cause as long as I am in my head and dreaming,
I wouldn't need any other thing
Still, I can sense my higher self hoping:

Someday in the future I'd be quitting
Replacing these fake memories with something genuine
I don't know if it will happen but if it ever does
My legs would finally sigh and be greatly thanking.
I know, i fear to try
Yet maybe eventually,
I can make the whole bit right.
Even after all of the hell that we both have been burned through
I know the spark that lights up the way to my soul
Has always just been you.
Rotting in bed for three days now.
I was thinking about all the whys and hows,
trying to find an answer.
Maybe if I get up and complete a couple of tasks,
I can beat my temper,
which I always had at the end of the day,
when I realized I missed out on this day too, when I pray.

But today,
I looked deep into my iris in the mirror,
and told myself
today is the day that will differ.
only if I start and be consistent,
everything would be clearer.

Perhaps even by the end of the year,
I can make her proud, my mother.
This time I'll try to stay stuck,
hoping that eventually I'll get my luck.

God will hear the sound of my heart
and provide a bit more strength for my worn out arms.
Over time,
I will reassume to pray at night
from deep inside my lungs,
an opportunity for me to regain the control of my years which was anything but young,

And in the future I know I'll be glad i tried that day when the alarm has rung.
I'll throw every piece of darkness holding me back to the bin.
And as Liza Minnelli has sung,
Maybe this time
Maybe this time I'll win.
I'll throw every piece of darkness holding me back to the bin.
And as Liza Minnelli has sung,
Maybe this time,
Maybe this time I'll win.
et mon dernier
acte d'amour
serait de me
forcer à ne plus
jamais te parler
I knew, since the start
True ones don't let you down.
I must praise your toxic art-
Of tricking and blinding what is real.
It almost made me accept the deal,
Until I found myself healed.

And see,
That I meant so much more
Than spending my whole life under your toxic core.
I’m glad that the second I heard the taxi horn-
I got in and got home.
Cried, cooked, and realized:
You're not worth a tear; you worth nothing.
It was then that I grasped-
It was my pure intentions that made you everything.

I already knew since the start:
The true one for me wouldn’t let me down.
Moral of the story?
Good riddance and good lesson.
You're at the age where you should have a son,
And it's high time I took my light back
And became my own hero
When I cannot see the sun.
I still hold onto your fantasy in my head, tight.
Can you feel the memories at night?
Or are you completely alright?
Do you replay every detail in your head, too?

I believed in your potential even if your damage grew.
I realized they were always there, the clues,
A part of me still wants you to remember though, just for the sake of the blues.

I guess there was no way clear,
Your voice's still ringing deep inside my ear.
I know it'll pass and i'd be healed,
But i can't help and peel
My lips, when i think about everything,

Will we ever get closure or just nothing?
Guess i'll get my tea,
sit on that breezy balcony,
And try to do nothing.
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