I used to sit alone a lot,
Afraid, staring down the wall of hate in me,
But if I were to offer advice to my old silence it'd be this,
There's no in between, you win or you lose, so take a deep breath and slip your noose, your the one who tied it,
Though you try to hide it,
the shattered prices, of who you used to be.
But you should see.
You have those prices so glue them together with blood if need be.
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