Let's see. How do I put this. I'm relieved. But dead. I'm happy. But I'm not. I'm scared. Yes. That's it. I'm scared of falling. Not just falling. I'm scared of falling onto a bed of roses. Intoxicatingly painful. Beautiful. And lethal. The heart tears and breaks under its mercy. You can't remember to breathe. There is no time to find oblivion to the torture. But here I am again. This magical addiction. When will I learn? Is having the heart torn and scarred over and over again not enough? Somethings are just so hard to let go. What to do. It's life. Maybe I haven't been guarding myself. I let myself go too much and dugged my own grave pit a bit too deep too fast. From now on, I will make a concious effort. I'm gonna fill the pit with fluffy pillows as I dig. That feels abit comforting...
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