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Trick of the Mind?
Sitting in the doorway
People passing by
Looking down on me
Not too sure why
Is it the paper bag I’m holding?
The smell of booze on my breath
The dirty sheet that warms me
Or the fact I look like death
Is it that my hair’s a mess?
The vomit on my chin
The scars on my arms
Or that my takeaway’s the bin
Do they think I choose to live this way?
That I deserve what I have become
That I could choose to be with someone
Instead of choosing to die alone
Maybe it’s that I talk to empty spaces
Sing songs out of tune and cry
Bang my head on the wall
And look at the blood ‘til it’s dry
Maybe it’s because they can’t see the demons
The ones that sit next to me and scream
Telling me I am worthless
And deny my ability to dream
Well, best settle down for the night
I have nightmares to face
Where I look down on someone
And see me in their place
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