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there are times

Where I seem like im not okay

And I am

Then there are the times where I seem like I am

though I am not

It is because we are somehow more suited

Wearing a disguise of what we aren’t, than the skin of what we are

Nobody seems to see my face

Yet I’m holding up a flashlight to it

Like I’m sharing a ghost story

And it’s getting kinda gory and these scenes have spotlights for me

Shuffling through these documents, searching for my eloquence

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