How many people in this world are like me?
From a distance we look much the same
Wondering if cold is the absence of something because
I've felt this forever

After a while you learn that everything stops
We're aging and we all die alone
The constant tick tock of lifeless repeating irritates
We're all so f___ing dead

Heartless means little to those who have
Caved chests, bound eyes and broken hands
I myself am fabricated
Has this meant nothing?

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