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the narrative
i abandoned my desk
and traded it
for their troubles instead

i would give up every fantasy
to find acknowledgement
a definition for my existence

why am i the next
in this wretched bloodline?

like a constant,
i have trouble with trust
awaiting those closest to flee

there is no harmony in my laughter
or shine in my tired eyes
nothing anyone find irresistible

why am i not enough
to keep those next to me?

i do not want to live
this tale of loneliness
lost without a companion

i would change the narrative
to become someone fascinating
if only it dissappear

so, why am i unable
to let this story go?

© earthtoserenity