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Sometimes I suppose I'm happy,
Like when I'm with my friends,
Throwing my head back and covering my mouth,
As I shake with laughter,
At a joke someone just made.

But then day turns to night,
My carefree grin turns into unexplainable sadness,
Etched on my face like a tattoo,
And I lay in bed,
Thinking about all the things I with I could say,
All the things I'm too afraid to admit,
Even with only pen and paper and mind.

It's nights like these when I realize:
I am many things,
I am happy and sad,
Outgoing and shy,
Rambunctious and quiet.

But mostly,
I am just empty.

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