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Building Myself

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You told me to build myself into a house, to stack the bricks one upon another so that I could support the walls of someone else someday. But the thing about houses is you have to look inside to see if they are collapsing I was collapsing- thinking my walls could handle anything I forgot my foundation and now I'm here sinking into the ground the same earth that's grows flowers and is home to countless animals. This very ground will eat you alive and I don't care you don't care I'm watching through my windows as you just go on about your day adding more shingles to this roof not even checking if the door is locked im sinking safe and sound inside of my perfect home but perfect is subjective and to live is subjective I guess you can't define love either especially if you've never even tried




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