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Sleep Is For Dreamers

Standing on this beach whenever I'm feeling lonesome. Watching all these people be happy and thinking how they do it.  Maybe they're faking it because that's the only way they know how to be happy.
How do people go on living their lives knowing they're going to die?
I wonder why I'm so cynical, probably because it's been a shitty week. Or maybe I'm just like this. I heard they used to put people in asylums for being cynical. Maybe I belong there because I haven't slept in three days.

Still watching all these people walk by pretending to be happy. Watching him and her be happy. Watching those other people laugh. Watching him rip me open from the inside. Pretending it doesn't hurt when it feels like I'm internally bleeding. I'll cough up his blood until I'm at my funeral.  
Written by LizB
Published
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