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It is a boulder,
Intrinsically pieced on me, by me.
They thought it's a stone
That I could kick ahead to,
A nothingness I cried waste to.
It was, but, a singularity,
Forcing me to a void abyss.
Not mere unhappiness,
Not just a loss of bliss.
▪️
It was guilt, of I know not what.
It was anxiety, and I was left to rot.
It was isolation, from myself.
It was my despise to self.
It was pure despair.
It wasn't fair.
It was……
▪️
Maybe I need repair...
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