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So sick, of being on the losing end.
Can't help feeling like my only friend.
Surrounded by a sense, of fake pride.
While the truth, slowly eats me up inside.
Apologies that can't be said, not today.
I'd rather die, than give you your way.
Forgotten, but you still linger.
But I can't bring myself, to raise that finger.
To tell you, how I really feel.
So lock me up, I'm about to break.
Weakness is coming back, it's all I can take.
To breathe like it doesn't, hurt me to the core.
To pretend that when this is over, I won't be sorry anymore.