i hate me.

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after all the years of learning,
I still hate the way I built myself,
I used to want everything,
now I empty all my shelves.

the baggage left in my heart,
it all rings every bell,
the way it is tearing me apart,
it is messing me up well.

and here I wander to exist,
just for a few to understand,
but then, one among my favorites:
abandoning all my friends?

when I spilled happiness,
and brought joy into their lives,
but I hate when I sense,
bitter grins behind those smiles.

or am I oversensing,
all the things around me?
this overanalyzing,
drowns me in too much sobriety.

but I can't see the point anymore,
as I look through the lens—
what's finishing the run for,
if I'd be left behind the fence?

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