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To Live with Tortured Memories (The Two Faces of Death)

In silences I become alive again breathing through the corridors waiting for it all to fall back down again. Wheezing through avenues I'm waiting for you even if I don't know why I should. Stuck here with a loosened grip to wallow in the past with broken glass. It would've been nice if you didn't give me anxiety attacks every so often. I would've married a multitude of seething passions burning me from the inside out. A hollow wreck that burns smoke when there used to be flames.

Mistakes ring hollow in the face of money. A dream turned nightmare in the flicker and I'm made to feel like a customer of my own downfall. What use is happiness when the slaughter takes place out of hours and the body collapses from within. Dizzy paranoia with the noise and the noise and the noise. I became fragile in the temple of health. It's nice to know I'm not one of them even if they were supportive instead of you.

Living in the country of exorbitant demands and life has practically bankrupted me. I've become an energy void where the vampires used to feed. I used to love you/I used to have enthusiasm. Now I whittle away with cat scrapes covering my hands and arms. The desire I had has burned me alive. If only you can see the anxiety attacks that came with me. If only you could see the nervous breakdowns your persona imposed. If only you could see how frail you made me. But I can't bear to be in the same room as you. Too many old wounds would reopen at will.

The two faces of death have seen me and have willed me on to live with tortured memories. A punishment far too harsh for anyone to bear. Male and female, the destruction is complete. I must live with these secret communities that have borne the brunt of hidden pain that lives with them every day. 

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