Garbage Post: An Angry Eye

Once close, space has gathered and I feel it becoming normal.

And I always wonder if I’m not acceptable anymore.

Conversations just out of reach effectively taunt me until I surrender to sleep.

Worst cries are when I realize silence is better than speaking.

Survival, solo revival, whenever I complain there’s something stirring within.

I hate, don’t hate, hate, you,

Because, I, love you regardless of my pain.

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