September 13, 2011
Like a dead fly
no one cares about
I sit
bothered by no one
because I have been flicked off to the side.
I think there, of the things that used to be
I loathe my past self

I have the back of my mind screaming silently that all isn't bad
but my deaf ears are busy
hearing the silence of everything
and letting the tears siliently run down my face.

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