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    I used to feel safe,
    oblivious to the mess I left in my wake.
    Now I try to give more than I take.

    But there's more at stake
    than the nights I spent awake.
    It turns out I've got a selfish streak,
    and I repeat the same mistakes.

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    Seconds, hours, minutes, days.
    I feel it slip, slipping away.

    Did I mention that I'm fucking scared?
    I can feel the decay,
    but I can't say it caught me unawares.
    New bruises, new pills.
    Fate will not fight fair;
    the clock will not stand still.
    "Ask me why & I'll spit in your eye."
    We're all still ill.

    Today I felt the time slipping away.

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