I muse through the window frame,
torturing myself by thinking about
what I
don’t know,
that I
don’t know,
where to go,
that I don’t know why I exist.
I muse on a way forwards,
and despair sits next to me.
I muse through the window frame,
torturing myself by thinking about
what I
don’t know,
that I
don’t know,
where to go,
that I don’t know why I exist.
I muse on a way forwards,
and despair sits next to me.
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