I have an internal storm.
The floods are in my lungs.
They start to fill,
I start to fall.
I fall to the depths,
I retrace all my steps.
Try to recall my thoughts.
I don't even know who I am.
Don't tell me what I'm made of.
All you see is my shell,
This shell is my living hell.
I want to break free.
But, I fear that's all you want of me.
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