I can't hold my head up any longer.
Its slowly takes more and more.
Whats the real point of ever getting out of bed?
When its the same s**t over and over again.
Its nipping at the back of my heal. Chasing.
I dream of you, in my arms every night.
In pitch black, I call your name with fear.
Find me, when I lost my way, I beg.
I need you more then I need air.
I run to gain freedom, only to find more bars.
I love you, hidding in my eyes the truth.
I tell you my fasle feelings of hate.
To push you to find the better.
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I only take a drink on two occasions; when i'm thirsty and when i'm not.