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Numerical Order

I will softly tangle myself in silver threads of gravity
Stitching me back to life
Hunger fills me but I feel just fine
As if faded skin and hollowed eyes were going out of style,
I exhibit them proud
Just like I wear my heart on my sleeve
On my chest
Bare
Cold
Beating

I don't want to die and I don't want to live
I'm stuck, deranged, balancing on a minuscule pin
Weight. Stress. Numbers.
Its all my puddled pupils see.
Depression causes this, says your head,
An uneasy mind forms this
In clouds
In rain
And it washes over me
Coating me in a soil so thick it buries me
Filling me up like a balloon and
I
Am
Full.





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