They caught me, for once.
They made me confess my faults and scars.
They're going to medicate me,
take my life away from me,
tell me I'm a symptom of my disease.
But I hate to tell you of my hurts
because yours are so much greater
and you bear them so much better
than I.
but it seems that these clumsy words
could be my last.
My last chance for
a connection
a salvation
anything to make me want to wake.
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