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Too Many or Not Enough ?

I appear in a dark room.

With some woman that has the looks and resemblance of you.

She recites the poem that's buried in the book.

I know this poem will be my end so I thought the thought and took.

It.

Without a second glance the woman disappears and the floor falls in.

For as now I have realized all of my sins.

I have realized all my lies and truths and betrayals for the lesser good.

And the worst points of my life flash before my eyes on super speed.

You wouldn't think it would be a lot being only 15 years young.

But it's enough to fill two scrapbooks.

It's harder to watch the farther it goes.

I see her and my father and friends and all the past loves and life's.

I think I know all about myself but I don't.

I would like to say I do but that's a false truth.

As the slideshow comes to a end.

I see a double of me.

A third person overview movie of this double.

Everyone likes this version.

He is funny,selfless,truthful,bright,handsome and everything else I'm not.

Everything I never will be.

He has hearts wrapped around his fingers.

Quite the opposite of me.

It's funny because he has it too.

But it's the opposite of me again.

He has it but doesn't want it.

I want it but I can't get it.

He's not nearly as vague as I am which is important.

One time in the dream.

I appear the next day with this double.

And no one notices.

No one says anything to me.

I've been replaced.

Replicated to the better good.

As my heart shatters into a thousand glass shards.

You come and ask what I'm still doing here.

You say.

Leave and never come back you're useless here no one wanted you here anyway.

You were a waste of time.

Fast forward to my future.

Dream.

I see in a split screen everyone I know die as easy as they were thought of.

It's funny because this happens every night.

Still trying to be a knight.

I wish I had the courage to say.

I guess that would be my Christmas wish.

I guess that's what I would want to say.

I guess that's what my grandfather would want me to say.

He still asks about it.

I still don't respond.

But this isn't a dream anymore sadly.

I wish it was but at the same time I wish it wasn't.

I still don't speak my mind.

Afraid of what she would retort.

Too many pills.

Too many tests.

Too many sedatives.

Too many antidepressants.

Too many people.

Too many attacks.

Too many questions.

Too many answers.

That I won't say. 




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