“It is what it is.”

Where do I have to bring myself into

Just to find a noose at the end of the tunnel?

It doesn’t matter what my stomach says

For the oxygen I’m breathing is hell

I never wanted this despicable destruction

I wake up everyday just to see that I can’t go on

If this is fair for the erudition I divorced

Would I have to let go and let things run their course?

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