My Fall

Blisters, knives and scratches between;
Learning nothing from my daytime dream.
Feeling sick, feeling clean, feeling black.
I just want my old sickness back.

I need somebody to lean on.
I need someone to miss me when I’m gone.
Nothing I can see makes me feel well.
I don’t feel too good; I don’t feel like myself.

Help me, I’m begging; I’m pleading with you all.
Is anybody ready to catch me when I fall?

It’s coming.

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