Untitled 1 – by Nyx Louloudi

standing here with the wind blowing through the empty hole in me
feeling like every time i lost more while you were throwing me.
its sickening to see the world spinning when you can’t hold on cuz you’re stretched so thin
you tell you’re self its the right moves but you know you are lost with in
standing here with the wind blowing me away piece by piece
there is nothing left but the thought of what i used to think was me
i used the phrase “it’s not you it’s me”
but this time i mean it cuz I’m not who i used to be
I’ve change into everyone’s idea of the perfect clone
but somehow in a group of people i know i still feel alone
try cutting the pain out and the sight of blood is bliss
maybe its the ignorance i miss
the ignorance of having a fake happiness.

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