I look for reassurance from every open eye,
whipping my mind deciphering their brain,
rendering me helpless on a one way train.
Its time to jump off by a nearby shore,
search for what calms me,
not what makes me bleed.
I will patch up the wounds
and get out of town if its time,
its time for a new rhyme.
Writing for you has been your chain,
connecting me to your death
and blocking every deep breath.
I can inhale now despite my enemies,
ones that have crept up from the grave
or ones that shun if I misbehave.
But the most unnerving leach of all,
remains in this soul of mine
that has simply lost time.
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