Mourning
de Echos
I'm mourning each morning again
Waiting for outcomes I wrote in my head
And I need to get out of this place
Nothing is real, it's a system I made
Every time I try to speak
Nothing comes out, it's just vacancy
Why am I so filled with poetry?
I hate that I feel so much
Do you think that I feel too much?
I'm close enough to admit
Finding the heartbeat inside of my sadness
No, it doesn't have to live
But I'm feeding off of it
Every time I try to speak
Nothing comes out, it's just vacancy
Why am I so filled with poetry?
Hate that I feel so much
Do you think that I feel too much?
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