Truth

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There are times I want to cry.
Let go of all sterotypes and just cry.
Scream out my lungs and become a rage of emotions.

Everything becomes too much.
Past, present and future.
Eating away at your soul.

Everyday take it all in.
Everyday suffer through pain.
Building a beast inside.

He comforts me holding close letting all my tears flow.
Holding me like a baby as I die in his arms.
Resurrecting my sense of self and sanity.

Human.
Tears.
Mortal are we all.

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2 Comments
AmyfriendAmyfriendabout 17 years ago
Pour out...

your soul and be cleansed

LeBrozLeBrozover 17 years ago
~~

Comforted in his arms

Can let the beast be released and cry;

For these are the memories that fade in a man

But refuse to die in a woman's mind.

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