You try so hard to be loved
But the pain you bear, is incomparable to the regret you feel for past actions.
Memories haunt you, thoughts, words, people. They won’t understand you until you speak. But your mouth won’t work, the voice from your throat dies. Thus not being able to truly tell what you feel. Lying and putting a fake act will make people think that’s you. They can’t read your mind. You wish someone will relate to you, but you still feel lonely, to the point you block people out. Then they blame themselves.
I feel useless, should me, drowning in my sorrow,
Mean that there is no tomorrow?
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