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reality
I sit and wait,
 For things to get better.
 It's like watching paint dry.
 We have 1 good day,
 And 7 bad.
 Automatically it's my fault.
 And I won't ask how.
 It is no use.
 It will be more abuse.
 Everything is my fault always.
 I can't stand them any day.
 I try to hold it in, 
 The remarks push me to far.
 I can't stand it.
 It's as if I am going insane in 
    the membrane.

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