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Giving Up
The cuts on my thighs.
The slits on my wrist.
The pain in my eyes.
The hurt in my chest.
I am falling to peices,
butonly I can see,
what I am running from in these races,
before it kills me.
But what I've noticed,
from my running,
is that I've missed
my life, so sweet and cunning.
Life is the race,
you see,
staring into my blank eyes,
it stopped me.
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