This sickness turns my stomach in knots.
I torture myself to know the truth.
But how much of /that/ is really the truth?
I wander here, in my mind. The thoughts start gentle,
But they always do.
It won't be long
The itch will begin again.
I torture myself to know the truth.
But how much of /that/ is really the truth?
I wander here, in my mind. The thoughts start gentle,
But they always do.
It won't be long
The itch will begin again.
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