But you seem to forget it always comes down to the same things
Its always them
Or you

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@yourmomspoolguy
But you seem to forget it always comes down to the same things
Its always them
Or you

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You know when people haunt you? I cant tell you what you said, or how but you, you haunt me
But i exceed
I am more than enough
I have more than enough
And this hollowness
This ache in my chest
Just means I have room for more
I remember waiting.
When you left, you took something of me with you. When you left I couldn't breathe
When you left the longing almost killed me, almost
when you came back, you didn't bring that piece with you. Almost though, almost.

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I dont want to look at the news,
Or in the mirror.
I think if I sit still long enough, neither one will haunt me anymore
When they ask me where ive been I won't mention you.
Won't mentioned everything i missed.
When you left, you took something of me with you. When you left I couldn't breathe
When you left the longing almost killed me, almost
when you came back, you didn't bring that piece with you. Almost though, almost.
It took a while but it wasn't until someone pointed it out that I realized the harsh edges. The relentless jokes. The stares and the laughing. It wasn't until someone asked why I said that. Are you trying to be cruel? They asked.
.
.
Can you see me?
I didn't like him much. There are some people who you know can see right through you. Almost like they can see your hollow. Almost like your secrets live in their mouth. Always seconds away from saying something. Looking to see if you're really as hollow as you seem.
Can you see me?
Am i hollow?
You've got to make time for your art. Even if your art looks like staring at the bathroom floor

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When i was little, the first thing I memorized was my mother's phone number
If you get lost she'd say
If you need me.
Next I memorized my address
If you get lost, if you need me.
I know that address by heart. That number. Just in case I get lost, just in case I need her.
But the me I was with you, I'll never get back.
And she said to me, "They say the best people are only around for a little bit, you know why they say that? Because even if their around for 10 years, you still find yourself asking for more time"
Months blur together, and you're distant, and I can't hear. It's moving so fast. I find myself asking, "What did you say?" More and more. Getting lost in a city I've lived in for years. Another wrong turn. Another season passes, and months bleed into each other. Sorry, I can't hear you. Can you say that again? Another wrong turn. Another day, avoiding going home. "What was that?" I lean in closer to hear, but you just get further and further away.
A soccer field somewhere, my mom's old car, an outdated bathroom, a church's popcorn ceiling, the woods behind my childhood house.
The dent in the wall, broken hinge, a window that won't close, the hole in the screen door, flat tires and kitchen knives.
Not a good memory comes without a bad one.

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And my time is spent mostly in parking lots. Sometimes alone sometimes with company. Somehow, always waiting
Maybe one day ill think of my middle school friend group at the exact same time as them. And we'll all be In different places, different schools and we'll think
"I wonder if they still think about me too"