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Untitled (Bad Day)
My best days are behind me.
Don't look cause you won't find me
any place you could before.
I'm balled up in the corner;
standby to call the coroner
cause I can't make it, I can't take it anymore.
Sure there's a reason why I'm here,
but that reason's not so clear.
My mind is it's own cancer -
I don't need this,
don't believe this,
just can't seem to find the answer.
It's all a blur
nothing changes, nothing stays the same.
There are no words,
no written pages, no picture just a frame.
There's no light beyond this tunnel -
just a dark consuming funnel
crushing me, pulling me in.
I stare at my reflection
but there's no obvious connection
to what I see and what's within.
How could I feel so empty?
How could things just fall apart?
I'm staring at my finish line
but still thinking how to start.
poem
by
Jason Cline
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