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I look at the time and it is days past when I was due
Due to pen down something that lets me go of the weight
I never meant to leave writing, never had a clue
But days turned to years and it felt so late

As I try even to write this down so I can start where I left off
I don’t feel like the same person anymore
The one that I may have abandoned in my mind’s loft
I am no longer him and he’s no longer me, in my core

I want to write something down in hopes of redemption
Maybe I will conjure something beautiful one day
Something so magical or tragic that maybe be read someday
Something so that I am not forgotten by the passing of time

There is so much to write about and so much to feel
Where did that person go who used to write everything they knew
Now the shadows have been a friend for so long
It feels impossible to come out to my own rescue

Even as I write this I know that I have degraded
The husk of the writer I was who had now since faded
So I write in hopes of conjuring a fraction of the magic
In hopes of inspiration to strike, a wall to pull down

I was always a writer that put hurt into haunting words
And I feel the hurt of my own doing with things I can’t explain
So here I write trying to let go of in bits and pieces
Hoping that pouring words in here allows me stay sane

I am not a man of morality or of believing in the right things
I have been selfish and I may just be reaping the consequence
Punishing myself with thoughts I can’t get rid of
Where there is always this looming presence

I want to cherish the people I have in my life
I want to be happy for them but I fear I will lose them
But holding on to the idea of an incoherent world
With expectations comes a fuck load of sadness

This is my confession on things I may never confess to
I hope I become a better bigger person than I am
I hope I can deal with hurt and be able to see myself
This life is my own doing and I need to bridge the gap

Already I feel that there is some weight that evaporates
I can feel the loneliness demon backing back into the shadows
This may be the way to keep my thoughts cataloged
I need to emphasize that my time on this earth is borrowed

I will hopefully be back again
With more to write about
I don’t think I can survive
Keeping it all inside

Here’s to guilty poets like me
For whom, words are a respite
I urge you to write it down
There’s a pleasure when you confide

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