Stumbling

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The innocence in a laugh
I can never claim
The freedom of movement,
My body motors on brakes
I'm stumbling
On the terrain,
catching myself in philosophy
clinging to the unknown
Tentative without expectation
Because
I cannot rely on myself
To feel alive
The vastness of the world,
I take into account
And came to a final conclusion,
"I've only been suffocating myself."
I encircle my fingers around my frame,
Faith in the prowess of my hands,
Yet I fail.
To hug myself out of existence.
The identity of my embroidered soul
I pluck away,
In immaculate dexterity
At my flaws
Unstitching the bearable parts of myself
Crafted so peculiarly,
I examine the coordination of my blood,
"Why must you correct? What is so wrong with you that you've skinned yourself?"
Say,
Darling,
My deflection is the problem,
How I kill myself in my dreams,
Because I cannot compete with myself.
I am my only downfall.
"You mustn't wallow. What good would hating everything do? It's a waste of time."
Is dismembering me,
On the owls who
a therapy session
For the upcoming days.
I have nothing to
Pathetically claim.
Not even my heart.
My eyes have dried
The room has compressed
The darkness mocks me with its crude identification
Let me cripple myself
With this internal dissatisfaction
For just one moment

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