And I hope every morning you wake up, it hurts more and doesn’t stop.
And I hope every night you rest you lay and pray for death.
You made a better trophy in my dreams.
And now you are my nightmare.
And you are all that’s left of what it meant to live.
Don’t worry. This will only hurt for a second. Sleep soundly.
And what for? One more day of this weight.
One more day of this dissolved presence.
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