A Personal Thing

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It's midnight again and the aching's grown stronger

I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling

Why did I do that and say that and think that?

It's a personal thing, let it wash you away

There's a blurriness in my mind that forces me

to reconsider 

I focus on the now but it's all bleak and confused

You're disgusting for being who you are 

What you see and believe is a myth you've created

To comfort yourself at times like these

Does it give you purpose or focus?

Does it soothe? 

Does it put your thoughts at ease?

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