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The Gradual Distortion of Happiness
I am the undesirable
I am the unwanted
and what a horrible feeling it is.
What used to be my sanctuary
I've morphed into my shackles;
the weight around my ankles
exhausting every last breath of my being,
reminds me of what I once had
and what I turned it into.
But what is more painful then to say
you loved something
and turn to despise it
yet refuse to give up the one thing
that defines who you are
not giving a care if t breaks you.
Not caring if you cry
for every tear serves a purpose
to silently release the noise drowning you.

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