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reality
I sit and wait,
For things to get better.
It's like watching paint dry.
We have 1 good day,
And 7 bad.
Automatically it's my fault.
And I won't ask how.
It is no use.
It will be more abuse.
Everything is my fault always.
I can't stand them any day.
I try to hold it in,
The remarks push me to far.
I can't stand it.
It's as if I am going insane in
the membrane.
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