The Fine Line

January 18, 2009
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I tell myself I'm sorry,
But I don't know how sorry I feel.

I can't help but wonder
If I can take away this slumber -
The haze I live in,
In which I never win.

Saying goodbye to you
Should be the easiest thing I could ever do.
The childish part in me says things will get better,
That never stops myself from hating her.

I can't look in the mirror -
For fear of what I'll see there,
The hideous beast,
That devours my soul as if it is a feast.
She breaks me down,
So delicately in her favorite gown.

It's not fair,
Being beckoned to her lair,
Leaving with the stains of blood red,
Tonight, the beast will not be unfed.

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