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a year-long struggle
no, longer than that;
ceaseless, unrelenting
I never crumbled
the years lay behind
a waste, i think sometimes
i wonder how
i could be so blind
my stalling inaction
a permanent bind
winding between my arms
and pulling tight
a stay so closely intertwined
with my need to claim
what i wished to be mine
i feel twisted,
sick in the mind
when did i become
so clearly maligned
i see it now, it's obvious
my desperate need to be
a member of the audience,
a failing copyist with projected cockiness
only to myself
a deep twisting unease
followed me doggedly
a cruel twisting shadow
pulling hard and holding tight
i don't think i've gotten to the point
my year long struggle
was no true trouble
i fell in line
not really
there was never a line
i was still maligned
was it me or was it them
the thought kept me awake
shooed away eventually
by dreams of success
i think i already said
my projected cockiness
a dream for the future
but
a past needs a present
a future needs a past
how can i become
who i never am
accept yourself
i cant
just be yourself
then who are you
im sure on the inside
youre just like me
i dont mean to be unkind
i mean no offense
but there are ropes that twine
around your legs and arms
you are hopelessly confined
did you ever take the time
and try to unwind
or did you simply decide
to leave it unlined, unsigned, undefined
sometimes i see myself
in your blush
the turn of your eyes
but for some reason we decide
you are better designed than i
i confess
i do not understand why
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