You make me feel as if I'm an unpaved road.
You make me feel as if I'm half empty, not half full,
in a lit room, you somehow make it dark.
You make me feel like a dead rose,
ready to crunch in pain.
You're a pen without ink,
unable to write.
You're the world,
without the air it needs.
You're the reason that I write the awful things i do,
because,
I'm hopeless,
and dependent on everything you simply do.
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