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Identity Crisis
  I'm not myself, so whom am I to blame?
  All I do is bring drugs, disgrace, and shame.
  I lie to myself for the thrill;
  but the wasting feelings stand still.
  It's the wasting away feeling of our love
  It needs some insinuation like a push or a shove.
  My heart is a bleached coral reef,
  unhealthy and unique,
  but still,
  I'm not something you need.

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